


Stormseeker: Myriad Destinies

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Stormseeker Saga [6]
Category: Geneforge, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Male Character, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Drama, Goodbyes, Humor, Multi, POV First Person, POV Original Character, Present Tense, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-11
Updated: 2012-10-17
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexen Chelseer, the inborn Time Mage, decides to experiment with his powers a bit. He returns to several times and places that he has already been in order to tie up loose ends, as well as discovering some strange new ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Returning What was Borrowed

I'm Lexen Chelseer, the interdimensional time traveler, although it has been eighty years since I last did so. But I'm immortal. I was content to wait, and allow a person I loved to be happy, even if I could never understand why she would reject immortality herself.

I don't know that I will ever understand why Cassiopeia Black chose to accept death. But I loved her. I will always love her. And for that, I will allow her that free choice, even if I cannot comprehend it, and much as it hurt to let her go.

Now, I'm waking once again in the dormitory in the School of Thought, in Torn Elkandu, the center of the universe. It has been eighty years since I first discovered that I could actually travel through time -- a silly thought, I know, since I've known since the start of all this that I could travel back through time when I die, either to the last time I woke up or to the first day that I died depending on how I was killed.

But now, however, I know that I don't have to always go to the same point in time when I travel to another world through the Nexus. I don't have to return to the summer of 1991. Completely by accident, a stray thought, a stray wish from Cassie, sent us back to 1933 instead.

So, where am I going this time? Exactly the place that I just left. Time I just left. Whatever. I head for the Nexus, and don't even stop to bother the woman tending it. I concentrate on an image of the room in my home in Wizarding Earth, where Tom, Gellert, Rispy, and I had gathered up to make some final discussions before leaving. Where Tom hit me with one last Killing Curse, sending my soul hurtling across space and time back to Torn Elkandu.

Glowing mists surround me, filling the space between the ring of obelisks, and when my vision clears, I'm somewhere else. Home, surrounded by the blinking, confused faces of my friends.

"Wait, how did we get back here?" Rispy wonders, scratching behind one of his big, floppy ears.

"This is where I chose to go," I say, beaming broadly. "It seems that it worked."

I gather them up and Recall us all back to the Nexus. The view shifts, and the purple skies of Torn Elkandu return.

"So it would appear," Tom says, looking around with a grin. "Fascinating."

"What did you guys experience in the few minutes before I used the Nexus and went there?" I ask.

They shake their heads. "Nothing," they concur.

"I simply cast Avada Kedavra, and then there was a swirl of mist," Tom says. "It was a little disorienting. I could feel _something_ yanking my soul around, but there was no interval."

"I think it's high time that we figure out just what I can do and where we can go," I say.

"Yes," Tom agrees. "It's about time. What shall we look at first?"

"I'm thinking perhaps poke around Wizarding Earth a bit," I say. "For short periods here and there. None of these eighty year spans in one timeline again."

"If you're heading back to a period where I was imprisoned," Gellert says, "then you don't have to bother coming to get me out if you aren't planning to stay for long. I'd like to try to find a way out of Nurmengard myself."

"You spent fifty years there and couldn't get out," Tom says.

"I did," Gellert says. "But that was fifty years in a prison I'd built myself and accounted for every contingency I could think of. I couldn't learn anything new in there and everything I knew that might get me out, I'd already thought of and patched up. It's been a century since then, a century of learning many interesting new things that I could not have accounted for when I built the place."

"Worth a shot," I say, shrugging.

"I know it's completely unnecessary," Gellert says, chuckling. "But it's a puzzle that's been bothering me for a while. Am I a sad person for spending my spare time thinking of ways to break out of my own prison?"

"Nah," Rispy says. "As for me, I can stand being with the Parkinsons for a while if need be, so don't worry about me if I'm there. I'll get away from them myself if I can."

Tom smirks at them and says, "As for _me_ , well, I really mind being a book, so please get me out of there as soon as possible." He grins at me and snickers. "No, honestly, I'm barely aware of being a damned book, so don't worry about it if you're doing something else somewhere. I'd really just rather not miss out on anything. But go ahead and have fun, and let us know what you learn when we meet up next."

"I think this was more intended to be about learning information than having fun," I say with a smirk.

"You're a Ravenclaw," Tom says.

"Point." I chuckle.

"Alright," I say, stepping into the Nexus again. "Here goes nothing. I'll see you all on the other side, somewhere or sometime."

And where -- when -- to go? The first thing that comes to mind... a flash of green light in a graveyard. Quirrell slaying me and sending me back to the start. The first time I was ever hit by the Killing Curse.

Glowing mists surround me and my companions, and the runed streets of Torn Elkandu vanish.

"HARRY!" screams Cedric.

My eyes snap open, staring up at a darkened sky. I'm laying flat on my back in the dirt. Quickly, I roll over and scramble to my feet, reaching for my wand. My leg protests in pain from a partially healed wound as I do so.

"What the--" Quirrell begins. "But... you... how!?"

"I'm the fucking Boy-Who-Lived!" I yell. Maybe I actually deserve that appellation now. I point my pine wand at him. "Surrender, or you will be destroyed."

"You-- What can you possibly do to me, boy?" Quirrell demands. Then his eyes move to a shadow at my side. "And who are you? How did you get here?"

I glance to my left. Tom is standing there. He must have come along with me. That's right, the diary was destroyed in this timeline. I guess there wasn't anywhere for him to get merged with. Does he really count as a separate person than Voldemort?

"Me?" Tom says, chuckling. He brandishes his wand -- identical to the one Quirrell is now holding -- and a nonverbal _Lumos_ lights up his face.

"Wait... You!? How can this be?" Quirrell says, staring incredulously.

"What's going on?" Cedric wonders.

"I'll explain later," I say, holding up a hand to him.

"So, tell me," Tom addresses the man pointing the same wand back at him. "Am I speaking with Quirrell right now, or Voldemort?"

"I am Lord Voldemort. This pathetic fool is still trying to fight me even now, weak as a mewling kitten."

Tom snorts softly. "No. You are the one who is weak."

"How dare you!" Quirrellmort shrieks. "I am the greatest dark wizard who ever lived!"

"You are a deluded, posturing fragment of a shattered soul who thinks himself great and powerful," Tom replies. He glances at me, and says, "Let us rid this world of this one. Lend me your power, and we shall crush him."

"You are weak if you have to seek the aid of another!" Quirrellmort says.

Tom casts a cool glare at him. "And you are weak to refuse to do so unless you have no other recourse." He raises his wand and casts, " _Separo Animum!_ "

I let all the power he needs flow through our Soul Bond and into him. Quirrellmort lets out an unearthly wail, and a wisp of something glowing faintly green emerges from him, struggling and snapping around in the air. Quirrell collapses to the ground once it leaves his body.

The greenish glow is pulled across the graveyard, and Tom cups it in an outstretched hand. It seems so small and dim from here.

"See this well, Stormseeker, Cedric?" Tom says, holding it out for us to look. "This is your Dark Lord. This is all that's left of Voldemort, after he mangled his soul in an attempt for immortality."

Cedric's eyes widen as he stares at the ghostly wisp, still squirming futilely, but Tom has it held tightly with his magic.

"He sacrificed love, he could not comprehend regret, and he drove himself more and more insane," Tom goes on. "And I regret that any of this ever happened."

He sighs and closes his eyes, and focuses. He makes it look so easy, but I can see the lines of pain on his face, and I can feel him drawing on more of my magic. The light fades, seeming to be absorbed into his hand. In mere moments, what remained of the Dark Lord is gone again, leaving the graveyard lit only by Tom's wand.

"What-- What did you do?" Cedric asks.

Tom shudders a little. "I can't believe that he used such a foolish, convoluted plan to get Harry Potter here." He snorts softly as if in amusement and looks to Cedric, and answers, "I reabsorbed him."

"You... what?" Cedric says.

"Ah. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tom Marvolo Riddle." He bows suavely toward Cedric. "I am the one who, in another life, in another time, another future, would have become Voldemort. My dear friend here told you he was a time traveler, yes?"

Cedric nods, still looking confused.

"When he would have been killed here, I came back with him," Tom explains. "I am not from this world."

He goes over to where Quirrell is laying and casts a few healing spells over him, then picks up the duplicate wand. He holds them both out so that Cedric can see.

"They're exactly the same..." Cedric says.

"Indeed," Tom says.

"So, when I helped Harry kill You-Know-Who, it was really all for nothing?" Cedric wonders.

Tom shakes his head. "Not at all. If he had been in a physical form of his own at the time, even one as mutated as the one he'd wound up with, I would not have been able to do what I did like that. He would have needed to be killed again, and his spirit might have fled before it could be captured. Tracking him down after that would have been problematic. So, you did well, Cedric."

Cedric nods uncertainly.

"You two had best get back to the Tournament," Tom says. "I'll leave it to you to explain what happened. I'll take care of Quirrell and catch up with you later. He was _not_ an entirely willing participant in this."

He goes to tend to Quirrell's semi-conscious figure, and Cedric and I turn to head back to where the Triwizard Cup had fallen.

"Can we trust him?" Cedric whispers to me as we're walking away.

"Absolutely," I reply. "He is my rock in the darkness, who will support me even when my closest friends might waver. You have no idea what we've been through together... in those moments between breaths, a hundred years passed for me."

I gather up the invisibility cloak and put it back into my bag of holding.

Cedric holds out the icy blue dagger he'd used to destroy Voldemort's draconian form. "Do you want this back?"

"Keep it, if you like," I say, shrugging. "I'd rather not carry around a weapon that kills me if I so much as touch it."

"Alright," Cedric says, carefully tucking it away in his belt. "Grab the cup on three?" I give a nod. "One... two... three!"

We put our hands on the cup simultaneously, and it wrenches us away. The portkey lands us back on the Hogwarts grounds. Thunderous applause erupts around us amongst the spectators.

"Wait, there's two of them?" someone says after a few moments.

"How can we have two champions?"

I give the faintest of smirks. This stupid, foolish Triwizard Tournament. I shake my head. "Give the trophy to Cedric."

"But--" Cedric starts to protest, but I hold up a hand.

"No buts," I say. "I should not have even been in this tournament in the first place. Magically binding contract my _arse_. It required me to participate, whatever that's supposed to mean, but I don't have to accept any awards for it. I hereby officially forfeit any chance I might have of receiving anything from this tournament."

"He can't do that!" murmurs the crowd.

"Can he do that?"

"He just did."

"Now," I say, " _I_ am going to go and make sure that Fleur and Viktor are alright."

I turn to walk back toward the maze. I have no idea what state this last iteration of the time loop left those two in. I don't remember whether they were stunned, injured, whether I'd had time to call for help for them, or what.

"That is very honorable of you," says a voice heavily accented in French, "but that won't be necessary. We are fine."

I stop and smile over at her in relief. "Fleur."

"And I," says a male voice with a different accent.

I nod, going over toward them. "I'm glad. I was worried."

"I am... sorry about what happened," Viktor says quietly, looking about uneasily.

I shake my head, and murmur to him in Russian, "You need not apologize. Not to me. Maybe to Cedric."

Viktor blinks at me, and replies, "I did not realize you spoke Russian."

I chuckle. I'd originally learned it on Terrestia, and refreshed my knowledge of it -- and confirmed that it actually _was_ Russian -- during my last life. "I'm full of surprises."

"I'll say, brother," Viktor says. "I meant to mention it to you before the final task. Katrina is due in September. The mediwitches determined that it will be a girl. She wanted me to ask if you had any preference for names."

My heart skips a beat. Despite having just watched generations of my descendents grow up, I still thrill with elation at the news. I reply immediately, "Raven."

"Raven?" Viktor repeats, then nods. "I will tell her." He adds more quietly, "Provided that I am not sent to Azkaban."

"If you are, I'll break you out myself," I say firmly.

Cedric waves me over, and I nod to Viktor again before heading off with him to meet with Dumbledore and the other judges.

"Don't leave me here to try to explain what happened on my own," Cedric says.

"Sorry," I say, smirking. "Can you blame a guy for wanting to make sure his brother-in-law was alright?"

"After what he did to me?" Cedric says, raising an eyebrow.

"He was Imperiused," I say. "Not that that's even a particularly grammatical word."

"I do not believe that we will argue over grammar at the moment," Dumbledore says. "What exactly happened in there?"

"The Dark Lord tried to resurrect himself," I say. "Instead we killed him, permanently. He will not be troubling anyone any longer."

"Forgive me if I find this all a little hard to believe," says a man. Merlin, I forget what his name is.

"Cornelius, I do not believe that Mr. Potter would lie to us," Dumbledore says. I forgot Fudge? That's sad.

"He is fortunate that he did not get sent to Azkaban," Madame Maxime says. A woman the size of a mountain? Yeah, she's impossible to forget.

Cedric sighs and steps up in front of me. "Enough. Harry doesn't deserve the half of the venom he's been getting lately. He's a bloody hero, even if none of you quite understand the extent of it. I was there! I saw the whole thing! I helped, but if it weren't for him, I'd probably be dead right now. I would have wound up going in there completely blind, without realizing there was You-Know-Who at the other end of that portkey! And that's assuming I got to it at all, and that Krum didn't kill me while he was under the Imperius Curse."

"It's alright, Cedric," I say, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I really don't care what they do to me. They can send me to Azkaban for all I care. I'm not going to be staying here much longer anyway."

"What do you mean?" Cedric says.

"My work here is done," I say. "I was destined to fight Voldemort." I sigh. "Not much of a destiny, if you ask me, but I took it, and it's over with."

"And where do you think you're going, then?" asks the headmaster of Durmstrang. I don't remember his name, either.

I shrug. "I don't know. But I'm leaving this world. I just want to tie up some loose ends here first."

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss this further at another time and place," Dumbledore says. "And Harry, you are limping. Madam Pomfrey would be most upset if I were to keep you from getting treatment for that."

"I'm fine," I say. "It doesn't really matter."

"Still, some rest would be best," Dumbledore says. "Run along back to the castle, the both of you."

"Very well," I concede.

I head back to the castle along with Cedric, strolling as casually as I can across the darkened grounds with my injured leg. How did it get injured? Was it in the maze? No, it was before then. It got hit with a curse from Lucius. Draco... oh, Draco, I hope he's alright. Draco stood up to his father and chose to stand by my side no matter what. I can't help but feel guilty about the thought of leaving him here when I go.

"I don't know that I quite understand what's going on," Cedric says. "But thank you. I owe you my life."

I shake my head. "No life debts to me, please. I'm not going to be staying to collect on them, and don't really care to do so regardless. Just... Live your life. Get married. Have children. Be happy. And be ready. Because one day soon, the walls will come down, and the Statue of Secrecy will fall."

"What do you mean?" Cedric says.

"Wizards can't hide from Muggles forever," I say. "Everything's liable to fall apart within the next few years, the next two decades at most. I can't be certain as to an exact date. The timelines are too different." I shake my head. "But I can't help you with that. The wizards will need people like you if they hope to survive the upcoming events."

Well, I say can't, but I certainly could. I most certainly could stay and help. But I choose not to. It would drive me barmy to try to save every timeline from itself. That's not what I'm here for.

Cedric and I part ways, and I head for the Slytherin dungeons. If I've given him something to think about, then so much the better. It's not my responsibility to stay and keep anything bad from ever happening again. I've fulfilled the destiny that was demanded of me. A destiny that, at the time, I'd thought it so important to fulfill. Now, it seems almost laughable.

Life goes on. The world goes on. There are no endings or beginnings. Only changes.

"Potter," a voice interrupts my musings. "Can I see you in my office for a moment?"

My mind still miles away, I don't think much of it, and just follow the teacher along. I stiffen for a moment as I glance at him and recognize him as Mad-Eye Moody, with his wooden leg and magical glass eye. And then relax a moment later as I realize that, in this timeline, Moody was being impersonated by Barty Crouch, Junior. And then tense again when it occurs to me that Barty might not be happy about the news that his master's plans went horribly awry.

As I step into the Defense Against the Dark Arts office and the door closes and locks behind me, a sense of dread wells up within me and my blood runs cold. I think I've just walked right into another trap.

"I just failed at 'constant vigilance' there, didn't I," I comment.

"Yes, you did," Barty agrees.

He flicks his wand at me. My own wand goes flying out of its holster, and he snatches it out of the air. Alright, then, let him think he has the advantage. I couldn't do wandless magic in this timeline, so he probably thinks I'm nearly helpless without it.

"So, I hear that the Dark Lord has been vanquished, hmm?" Barty says.

"Things are not as you think they are," I say.

"Really now," Barty says. "Then why don't you tell me?"

"It's complicated," I say.

Barty snorts. "Of course it is."

I smirk. "I don't know how much you know, but let me start by saying that we work for the same person." Sort of, at least. "And I'm no more Harry Potter than you are Mad-Eye Moody."

This is all rather irrelevent, too. No matter what happens, his master is liable to be gone soon enough anyway. I'd just really rather avoid getting tortured or something here.

Barty narrows his eyes at me. He's pointing his wand at my heart from a foot away. The worst he could do to me is Obliviate me or feed me to a Dementor, and I don't think he's going to do that.

"Who are you, really?" Barty asks. "And who do you work for?"

"My name is Lexen Chelseer," I say. "I'm the Dark Lord's apprentice."

"He never mentioned that to me," Barty says.

I roll my eyes. "Of course he didn't. He needed you to fulfill your role, just as he needed me to. Without compromising anyone's cover."

Barty stares at me suspiciously. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

A flash of red light erupts from Barty's wand, and before I can react to defend myself, the world goes dark.


	2. Traitors to Blood

I wake in darkness. My hands are tied behind my back uncomfortably, and there's a gag stuffed into my mouth. I have to laugh, chuckle deep in my throat. I'm such an idiot sometimes. He couldn't have done this just to defeat my time travel powers. He didn't even know about them, I'm sure, and didn't know about the limitations I had on them at the time anyway if he even had a hint that something was strange about me. 

Well, this is exactly why I was sure to spent time learning nonverbal and wandless magic. I'd learned some on Terrestia, but their selection of spells was much more limited. But, after years of practice, I can do magic perfectly well enough to get myself out of a situation like this. Tom would've killed me -- maybe literally -- if I were to remain that incompetent. 

_Diffindo_ , I think, and the ropes binding my hands are sliced away. I pull the gag out of my mouth and peer around. Still dark. _Lumos_ , I cast, and a globe of light appears in the palm of my hand. 

The place looks like a cavern of some sort, so far as I can tell. I'm not alone, however. There's a man laying unconscious on the ground next to me. A closer inspection reveals that it appears to be Mad-Eye Moody. He's missing his glass eye, and most of his hair is gone. This must be the real Moody. I go and remove his bindings as well. 

" _Rennervate_ ," I murmur, waving my hand at him. 

Moody groans softly and blinks open his one eye. He immediately searches around for his wand, and doesn't find it. "Where am I?" 

"Looks like we're in Barty Crouch Junior's trunk," I say. "I just failed pretty spectacularly at 'constant vigilance'. And he's been keeping you around for Polyjuice ingredients, I guess." 

"Who are you?" Moody wonders. 

"Harry Potter," I say. "Boy Who Doesn't Stay Dead and hundred year old time traveler." 

"Harry Potter?" Moody says. "We've got to get out of here. Voldemort--" 

"--isn't an issue anymore," I say. "I don't know what Barty's planning. He may not believe that Voldemort is really gone. Or maybe he just wants to torture me or something. I don't know. And I told them all that I would be leaving soon. He probably thinks he can get away with just making me disappear." 

"Either way, we've still got to get out of here," Moody says. 

I nod. "Don't suppose you know any way out of a magic trunk like this?" 

Moody snorts. "This is _my own_ trunk. Never thought I'd be getting shoved in here so that some Death Eater scum can impersonate me. I'll see what I can do, but he might've put some more spells on it to try to prevent that." 

"Failing all else, my friends should come looking for me soon," I say. "They won't believe that I've just gone off into the great blue temporal yonder." 

"Schoolkids?" Moody says. 

"Time travelers," I say, frowning. "Unfortunately, they won't know where to find me..." I sigh. I raise my hand and focus upon the thought of the rainbow after the storm. This, too, shall pass. " _Expecto Patronum._ " A wisp of luminous silvery vapor emerges from my fingertips. I shake my head. 

"You expected to be able to get off a wandless Patronus Charm?" Moody asks. 

"No," I say. "But it was worth a shot." 

I pull out my bag to sift through it. Barty didn't take this from me? Awfully foolish of him. Perhaps he didn't realize I had it. Wait, I have _two_ bags, actually. I find, curiously, that not only do I have the items that I had in this life, but also the ones that I'd had in my last one. 

And this second, older bag includes a collection of wands taken from the would-be Dark Lords that I'd defeated in order to keep my family safe. Perhaps I should have expected that my possessions would come along. I still don't really know how this all works. Well, that was the entire point of doing this, wasn't it? I pass over an extra wand to Moody, and pull out one myself that feels suitable. 

"Where did you get so many wands?" Moody wonders. 

"Killing dark wizards in another time," I say. "You have no idea how many half-baked morons tried to fill the gap left by Grindelwald and Voldemort." 

"I can probably guess," Moody says. 

"So, think you can get us out of here, or shall I send off a message to my friends?" 

"Hmm," Moody says. He waves the wand I gave him and utters a few words, frowning deeply, then shakes his head. "Bloody Death Eater's got the place sealed up tight. Can't open it from this side." 

I give a nod, and raise the wand I'd picked out for myself -- cypress and dragon heartstring, from the looks of it. I focus upon my happy thought, and say, " _Expecto Patronum._ " A shimmering silvery duck emerges from the tip of the wand. "I need you to take a message to Tom Riddle. Tell him I'm being held in the trunk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office in Hogwarts. Please come and get me." The duck nods and zips into nowhere. 

"Tom Riddle?" Moody repeats. 

"You know of him?" I say. 

"Of course," Moody says. "Why are you associating with Voldemort now?" 

I shake my head. "Not Voldemort. Alternate universe version of the man who, under other circumstances and in another situation, might have become Voldemort." 

Moody frowns. "I still don't trust this." 

"In other circumstances, Dumbledore might have become a Dark Lord, too," I say. "It was merely a fulcrum of destiny that turned him from that path. He might have joined up with Grindelwald and helped to subjugate the world, you know." 

"I don't believe that," Moody says. 

I snort softly. "Believe what you will. I know that the man I just called in spent the last nearly a century with me, trying to keep the peace and make sure no madmen, dark wizards, necromancers, what-have-you, would threaten the safety and happiness of our family." 

Moody continues to frown. Like everyone else, in other lives, he has been both ally and enemy to me. A valuable ally, a formidable enemy. I would really rather not have to fight him again. He's a good person. 

A large, translucent snake zooms into the room, and speaks in Tom's voice, "Message received and acknowledged. Support is on the way. Hold tight. Let me know at once if the situation changes." 

I smile as the snake wisps out of existence again. The sight of Tom's Patronus always makes me happy. 

"He... can cast a Patronus Charm?" Moody says, raising an eyebrow. 

I chuckle. "That he can. Proof enough for you that this Tom Riddle is not a Dark Lord?" 

"I'll reserve judgment," Moody says. 

"That's all I ask." I poke through my bag some more. "You hungry?" 

My own stomach is rumbling. How long must he have been here? Barty must have been careful not to let him starve or anything. 

"How much food do you have in there?" Moody wonders. 

"I've enough provisions in this thing to last one person for a year, at least," I reply. I pass over a ration to him. "They're not all that tasty, but they'll fill up your stomach and keep you going." 

"Good enough," Moody says, gnawing on it a bit. 

A heavy silence stretches between us. I have a million things I want to say to him, but what do I say? Sorry for having a basilisk eat you in another timeline? 

"So how long has that bastard had me in here?" Moody asks. 

"The entire school year," I reply. "It's June, and the Triwizard Tournament just completed." 

"Bloody hell," Moody mutters. "Pardon the language." 

"I'd have said about the same thing myself," I say. "Although my choice of words would likely have been 'Fucking Abyss' instead." 

Moody snorts softly. "So what's happened in the meantime?" 

"Crouch rigged the tournament to try to capture me for Voldemort's resurrection in a ridiculously absurd plan," I say. "This, however, backfired on Voldemort rather spectacularly. Suffice it to say that he won't be a problem for anyone here any longer." 

"Aside from the one you've brought with you," Moody says. 

"He's not going to do anything bad, and he's not going to stay long, nor am I," I say. 

Moody shrugs and goes quiet again. I guess neither of us really feels like arguing about it at the moment. Time stretches away as I wait for a rescue. This is really rather embarrassing. Of all the things I've been through, I get stuck in a magic trunk? 

Some while later, a shaft of light beams in from above, and a staircase unfurls before us. Tom descends the staircase and gives a look over me, and a glance to Moody, who is pointing a wand at him warily. 

"You okay there?" Tom asks. 

"I'm fine," I say. "I was dumb, I'll admit it." 

"Well, so long as you acknowledge that," Tom says, grinning. "Come on, Gellert's keeping an eye on Barty." 

The three of us climb the staircase and exit the trunk, blinking a little in the brighter light in the Defense classroom. Barty, having returned to his normal form now that the Polyjuice has worn off, is bound securely to one side of the room. 

"Can't turn our backs on you for a moment," Gellert says, chuckling. "Leave it to you to get yourself captured after being left alone for five minutes." 

I smirk. "How'd you get here so soon, anyway?" 

"Heh," Gellert says. "Turns out it's not particularly difficult to break out of Nurmengard when you've got the Elder Wand, essence potions, and knowledge of Shaper magic. I didn't expect my belongings to come back with me, but that kind of made it a tad easier." 

Moody peers at Gellert. "Grindelwald?" 

"Gellert Grindelwald, at your service," Gellert says, grinning wildly at him and giving a smooth bow. "This time, anyway." 

Moody casts another glance toward me. "You're hanging out with _Grindelwald_ now, too?" 

"It's a long story," I say, snickering softly. 

"Oh, here's your eye back, Moody," Tom says, hovering the glass eye over toward him. 

Moody snatches it out of the air and examines it critically with his good eye for a few moments before sticking it back into its socket. 

"What sort of alternate universe are you _from_ , anyway?" Moody wonders. 

Gellert smirks. "It was not a bizarre mirror universe where all the bad guys are good guys, and the good guys are bad guys with goatees." 

"The only thing different was the choices people made," I say. "So really, in the end, nothing was the same." 

"Now, as for you," Tom says, pointing his wand at Barty. "How did you ever conceive that this ridiculous plan was a good idea? There's too many points of failure. Too many places where, if just one thing goes wrong, the entire thing collapses. Not enough backup in case of problems arising. And this was the best scheme anyone could come up with to resurrect Voldemort?" 

"It worked, didn't it?" Barty says. "Up until you lot showed up out of nowhere and screwed everything up." 

"I'm going to attribute your success to the general ineptitude of everyone involved, especially Dumbledore," Tom says. 

"Hey, no Dumbledore bashing, alright?" Gellert says. 

Tom snorts softly. "The man's a blind fool sometimes and you know it. Or maybe he knew what you were doing and let you get away with it for some bizarre agenda of his own? Who knows? I'm certainly not going to ask him, nor believe him if he told me." 

"Why would Dumbledore do that?" Moody says. 

"I don't know," Tom says. "Maybe he thought Voldemort needed to be resurrected in order to kill him properly or something." 

"Look, I'm not going to hear any badmouthing Albus from you," Gellert says. "He's a good man." 

"Whatever," Tom says, rolling his eyes a little. 

"So, what are you going to do with me now?" Barty says. 

Tom picks up Moody's own wand and passes it over to him. "You? I'm going to leave you to Moody. He can do whatever he thinks you deserve." 

Moody takes his wand with a wicked grin and hands the borrowed one back to me, and I tuck it away in my bag again. "You know, _Tom_ , maybe you're alright after all." 

Tom chuckles and gives a casual wave, and heads out of the office, followed by me and Gellert. It's perhaps a good thing that it's late and the hallways are deserted at the moment. 

"Nothing is ever simple, is it," Gellert says. "You can't just show up and try not to get involved in anything. You wind up getting dragged in anyway." 

I grunt softly. "Nothing is ever really finished. The end of one thing is just the beginning of something else." 

"Anything else you wanted to do in this time?" Tom asks. 

"I need to make sure Draco's alright," I say, sighing. "Last I saw him, he was at Malfoy Manor, facing off against his own father for my sake." 

Tom just gives a nod. 

"Let's head down to the Slytherin common room and see if he's checked in there," I say. "If not, well, we can Floo over from there, I suppose." 

"Lead the way," Tom says. 

"Right behind you," Gellert says. 

I don't even bother with subtlety or caution as I make my way down several flights of stairs. However, Tom and Gellert decided along the way that they should alter their appearances to look like they could be students. I come right up to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and then abruptly realize that I have no idea what the password might have been at this point in time. This was lifetimes ago, how am I supposed to remember? 

"Um..." I say awkwardly. 

"Forgot the password?" Tom says with a smirk. 

"Can you really blame me?" I say. "It's been forever!" 

"Around a hundred years or so," Gellert says with a shrug. 

"Hmm, alright, I can do this..." I say. 

I proceed to start guessing species of snakes and potions ingredients. Tom pipes in a few suggestions as well. Gellert smirks and leans against a wall, watching us in amusement and clearly not the least bit impatient. 

"Potter, _what_ are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" says a familiar voice, and Snape comes stalking toward us. 

"Um. We forgot the password," I reply awkwardly. 

Snape sighs heavily. "You aren't even actually in my house, Potter, but sadly I can't take points from Gryffindor for this. You two, on the other hand, should know better." He pins Tom and Gellert with his gaze. "Who are you? I don't recognize you." 

Tom smirks. "Hello, Severus. Allow me to introduce us. I am Tom Riddle, and this is Gellert Grindelwald." 

"Very subtle, Tom," I say dryly. 

Whatever Snape might have been expecting, that wasn't it. He blinks for a moment. "If you were in other company, I would believe that you were lying." 

"It's the truth," I say. 

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" Snape asks. 

"We need to check on Draco Malfoy," Tom says. 

"He was in potentially grave danger several hours ago," Gellert says. "So we really need to check on him yesterday, honestly." 

"I'm not going back in time until I find out what happened to him," I say, snorting. 

Snape sighs, and says to the wall, "Asphodel." The entrance promptly opens up for us. "Do note that I'm not doing this for you, but to ensure that my student is safe." 

"Of course," I say with a faint grin. 

Inside the Slytherin common room, there's practically a crowd gathered around. Neville, Hermione, and Rispy are in the middle of it all, but it seems like half of Storm Army is there, plus one big black dog. 

"What are you all still doing up?" Snape asks, then turns his attention to Neville and Hermione. "And you two aren't even in my house." 

"We were hoping for some word from Draco," Hermione replies quietly. 

"He hasn't gotten back yet?" I say. "Oh, Abyss." 

"Who are they?" Neville asks, glancing to Tom and Gellert. 

"Friends," I say. "Long story." 

I stride over toward the fireplace, Tom and Gellert one step behind me. Rispy comes up beside me as well. 

"I'm going, too," Hermione says. 

"Me, too," Neville adds. A couple of the others nod as well. 

"If you were intending to go, why didn't you already do so?" I say. 

"We were waiting for you," Theodore says. 

"And we didn't have any Floo powder," Neville adds. 

I make a low rumbling sound. "You've got to be prepared. And don't go hanging on my every word! Do what you think is right, what you think needs to be done. I'm not always going to be here to hold your hand." I shake my head. "And we can't all go invading Malfoy Manor. I'd ask that all Hogwarts students remain here. We'll take care of this, alright?" 

"But you might need our help," Neville says. 

I give a small smile at him. "Perhaps. But I'm going to need you as backup in case anything goes wrong, alright? Stay here for now and conserve your strength. Rest." 

"Yes, Stormseeker," they murmur. 

I nod to my fellow time travelers, and cast a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor!" The flames flare green, and I step through, into the whirling ride and out the other side. 

The sitting room in the Malfoy house is dark, empty, and quiet. There's no sign that there was any sort of struggle here earlier today. 

Lucius quickly comes down the stairs, muttering, "Who on earth could be at the Floo at this hour?" He steps at the foot of the stairs to look over at me. "You!" 

"Who, me?" Gellert says innocently. 

"He's clearly talking about _me_ ," Tom puts in. 

"Where is your son, Lucius?" I ask. 

"I have no son," Lucius replies. 

" _Where is Draco?_ " I snarl. 

"Lucius..." comes Narcissa's voice at the top of the stairs. 

"Let me deal with these intruders, Narcissa," Lucius tells her. 

"Like you _dealt with_ our own _son_?" Narcissa says coldly. 

"What did you do to Draco?" I growl, wand in hand and pointed at Lucius. 

"My son is hurt," Narcissa says. "Cursed, and I can't cure it. I can heal him, but the curse remains, wearing away at him again incessantly. My son... my son will die within the week if the curse cannot be removed." 

Unbound rage burns through my veins. " _Crucio!_ " 

Lucius falls to the floor screaming, twitching. How dare he do this to my friend? I hold the spell on him for almost a minute before Tom puts a hand on my shoulder gently. 

"I don't think Cassie would approve, my dear." 

"Don't you dare hang Cassie's name over me about that," I snap, although I dismiss the curse. 

Tom shrugs. "Suit yourself. Far be it from me to complain over whoever you decide to torture and murder." 

"How could you do this to your own son?" I say, stepping up toward where Lucius is still laying. "Why? _Why_ did you do this?" 

"I have no son," Lucius says hoarsely, trying to climb to his feet, but I put my foot on his chest. "Draco is a blood traitor." 

"So you would rather that the Malfoy line end here and now, than potentially continue _less pure_? Is that it?" I demand. 

"Yes," Lucius replies. 

"You know," Rispy puts in. "I've told him that he's insane plenty of times, but you're making him look like a paragon of sanity." 

"I will not be told off by a house-elf," Lucius grumbles. 

"Then how about by me?" Tom says. 

"I don't even know who you are," Lucius says. 

"Well, let me rectify that situation, then," Tom says. "I am Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort, and your presumed lord and master." 

Lucius coughs something that sounds suspiciously like "bullshit". 

"Really?" Tom says. "Let's see about this, then." 

I don't see what Tom does, but suddenly Lucius hisses in pain and clutches his forearm. "You... No, you can't be..." 

"I can, and I am," Tom says. "If you really want to argue about it, I could just let him torture you some more." 

Lucius grunts. He doesn't seem inclined to argue any further, however. 

I turn away to stalk up the stairs. "Take us to him, Narcissa." 

Tom, Gellert, and Rispy ascend the staircase after me. Narcissa leads us off to a side bedroom. Draco is laying on the bed, breathing shallowly, unconscious. He looks very pale, and even without examining him more closely, I can _feel_ that something is very wrong here. Gellert goes up to his side to analyze the damage. 

Lucius steps into the doorway, straightening the collar of his robes self-consciously. "My... My Lord?" 

"Perhaps I should find it a little refreshing that I'm not solely responsible for destroying the pureblood families," Tom says. "They destroy themselves just as readily. The Blacks weren't brought down by my actions or any enemies, but by disowning their own for even the slightest foolish reason." 

"You cannot be suggesting that disowning blood traitors is a foolish reason," Lucius says. 

"I can, and I am," Tom says. "Did you know that I'm a half-blood?" 

"You... What?" Lucius says, gaping at him. 

"My father was a Muggle," Tom says. "Didn't know that, did you?" 

"But... but..." Lucius looks as though his world is dropping out from under his feet. 

"The Gaunts were the last of Slytherin's line," Tom says. "And you know what they were? Inbred to the point of madness and idiocy. A little fresh blood to revitalize it, and suddenly you've got the greatest wizard of his generation." 

"You're very modest," I say dryly. 

Tom smirks. "And fortunately, I inherited my Muggle father's dashing good looks. Which, in madder times, I apparently felt the need to ruin with a serpentine transformation that left me with _no nose_. No nose!" 

I snicker softly. 

"Where did you ever learn this curse?" Gellert says, glancing up from Draco's bed. "This is demon magic." 

"And more importantly, _why_ would you use it on your son?" I say. I rub my head. 

"I don't care if he's a blood traitor," Narcissa says softly. "He can marry whoever he wants to. He'll always be my son, and I will always love him." 

"Can you remove it, Gellert?" I ask. 

Gellert shakes his head. "Not something like this. This is no ordinary curse. An infernal creature demands a life." 

Narcissa pulls back her arm, and slaps Lucius across the face so hard that a red handprint is left behind. She strides up to the bedside and says, "Then let it be me instead." 

"No way," I say. "That's not necessary." I glance to Gellert in silent question. 

Gellert gives a nod. "A life, not a soul. At least we can be thankful this _gazember_ did not resort to soul magic." 

"I don't even know what you just called me," Lucius says. 

"Oh, I know how to insult people reasonably well in a number of different languages," Gellert says. "That was Hungarian. How about _sitapea_ , then? Or perhaps _dumhuvud_? Maybe _bajingan_? Or, hey, how about we just go with _motherfucking asshole_?" 

"I think I get the point," Lucius says. 

"No, I don't think you do," I say. "You cast a fatal curse on your own son just because he happened to like a Mudblood? No. This is unacceptable." I sigh. "We'll deal with you later, however. First, let's figure out what we're going to do about Draco." 

Rispy steps in and says, "I'll take the curse." 

"Rispy?" I say. 

"What? I'm expendable. And it doesn't matter if it's a human or an elf, does it?" 

"No, it doesn't," Gellert says. "The demon would be just as happy with your life as with Draco's." 

"You would do that, after the way they treated you?" I say. 

I don't care to mention to the Malfoys that we're immortal, so most things aren't going to keep us down permanently. Even so, he's still volunteering for a good deal of pain and suffering for the sake of one young wizard I didn't think he would have any reason to be attached to. 

Rispy just shrugs. "I'm not doing it for Draco. I'm doing it for Hermione. She would be quite upset if anything were to happen to him." 

I have to give a small smile at that. That makes more sense. "I see." 

"Alright, if we're going to do this, get over here," Gellert says. "I think I can... yes, yes, alright... I can do this." 

Rispy goes over next to him. Despite knowing that he won't stay dead, he still looks a little nervous. Especially when Gellert pulls out a silver ritual knife and begins to carve runes directly into Rispy's skin. I don't want to watch, but I can't bring myself to look away, either. 

"Who is that young man, and how did he learn so much about dark magic?" Lucius asks quietly. 

"That, is Gellert Grindelwald," Tom replies. "I think you might have heard of him at some point." 

Gellert chants a series of strange, unearthly words. The bleeding runes on Rispy's body begin to glow with eerie violet light. Something dark and wispy seems to lift out from Draco's chest and latches itself onto Rispy like a hungry predator. The elf gasps, and falls to the ground screaming and writhing in agony. 

Draco's eyes snap open. "What in the..." he murmurs. "Rispy?" 

Rispy shudders and manages, "I'm alright. Don't worry about me." He then starts screaming again. 

"Like hell you're alright! What happened?" 

"Lucius hit you with a fatal curse," Gellert says. "Rispy volunteered to sacrifice himself for you." 

"For Hermione!" Rispy says through clenched teeth. "You better never make her cry." His eyes roll up into his head, and he passes out. 

"No pressure or anything," Gellert says lightly. 

"Draco, how are you feeling?" I ask. 

"Alive," Draco replies, sitting up and blinking down at Rispy's prone form. "Surprised. Shocked. Upset." 

Narcissa goes over and gives her son a tight hug, not caring who else is in the room watching her. "Oh, my baby, you're alright!" 

I nod, and then point my wand at Lucius again. "Now that that's taken care of. _You_. I've heard your excuses, and I reject them." 

Draco pulls himself away from his mother's grip and slides down to the floor. "Father..." 

"And don't you dare even say that he's not your son again," I say. "I was willing to give your behavior some concession because you were Obliviated and had your memories modified so that you didn't remember all I'd done for you. But this? No, this is over the line. Over the fucking line. I thought I knew you better than this. I can't believe that you would ever turn against your own family like this." 

Tom stands back quietly, seeming to be enjoying the show greatly, a pleased, wicked grin spreading across his face. 

Lucius opens his mouth, but I flick my wand and shake my head. "No. I don't even want to hear your arguments anymore. There is _no_ excuse for what you've done. If it weren't for this one brave elf who was willing to suffer in his stead, you would have _killed_ your fifteen year old son. And for what? _And for what?_ Was it really worth it? This wasn't just some accident. This wasn't just disowning him, casting him out of your house, turning your nose up at him disapprovingly. This was _attempted murder_. I should know. I've murdered plenty of people in my lives." 

"Stormseeker..." Draco whispers. 

"And I won't shirk at adding another name to that list," I say. "I don't even know the names of most of the people I've killed. But you. _You_ deserve a special place in the Abyss for this. Nothing you can say will save you, Lucius. The Aurors might prefer to put you in Azkaban for this, but I'm not them. I'm far more merciful. I'm just going to kill you instead." 

Tom and Gellert also have their wands trained upon him, following my cue. He's not going to get away from this readily. My blood burns with rage and hate, desire to _kill_. This is one murder that I will have no remorse for. 

Draco steps in front of me, standing between my wand and his father. "Stormseeker. No. Don't do it." 

"Draco?" I say, the tip of my wand drooping. 

"I can't let you do this," Draco says. "I-- I don't care what he's done. He's still my father. I may not always agree with him, but I can't let you just kill him." 

"Draco, he would have killed you," I say. "What if it had been Hermione that he'd cursed instead?" 

"I don't know," Draco says. "But it wasn't." 

"How can you forgive something like that?" I say. 

"I don't know that either. But I won't have you murdering my own father on my behalf. Please." 

I give a short nod, and put my wand away. "Lucius, you are a very fortunate man who does not deserve the family that he has. And now you owe your son your life. But I will leave you in their hands. It's not my job to repair the damage that you've done to your own family, but perhaps with time, all wounds can be mended." 

I think I speak far better than I did before, just a day ago by the perspective of the people here. It must be somewhat shocking to them to see how much I've grown and changed in just a day. A day that was a century. Plus, I spent five years learning about politics and speaking from Lucius himself. Ironic, really. 

I turn to Draco and say, "Come on. Let's get you back to Hogwarts. Hermione's worried about you." 

Draco gives a distantly nod and leaves the room ahead of me, pointedly avoiding looking at his father. The four of us are silent as we return to the fireplace and Floo back to the Slytherin common room. 

The crowd has not diminished in the slightest. In fact, Snape is there, and Dumbledore appears to have joined them as well. Once she sees Draco come through, Hermione launches herself at him and squeezes him tightly. 

Dumbledore stares for a long moment at my companions, and finally says, "Gellert?" 

Gellert gives a short bark of laughter. "In the flesh. Howdy do, Albus. How's life treating you?" 

"So it really is him?" Snape says. 

"There was any doubt?" Gellert says. 

"Considering your company, nothing would surprise me," Snape says. "But I am glad to see that young Mr. Malfoy is well. What happened?" 

"There was an accident," Draco says. "And that's all I'm going to say on the matter." 

If he wants to keep it quiet, that's his prerogative. If the truth came out about what exactly happened, Lucius would probably see Azkaban regardless, even if he only wound up killing an elf. 

"Gellert, how did you get here?" Dumbledore asks. 

"I'm not from this universe, precisely," Gellert says. "Want proof? Check this out." He grins and holds up his wand. "Look familiar?" 

Dumbledore frowns, holds up his own Elder Wand, then peers intently at Gellert's version. "I... see." 

"But, sad to say, I'm not staying for long," Gellert says. "Once Lexen finishes up with whatever he wants to do here, we'll be gone again. But I'll see you again, in another life." His eyes practically twinkle in a Dumbledore-like fashion at that. 

"I suppose that's the real reason I'm here," I say. "One last chance to say goodbye." 

It's harder and more painful than I'd realized it would be. Before, when I was taken from each world suddenly and unexpectedly, it was easy enough to let go, once I got used to the idea that there was nothing I could do about it. Then, when I found out that I could take people with me, it wrenched my heart each time to have to leave someone behind, and tried not to get too attached to anyone who wasn't bound to me. 

But now, things are different. Now, I _can_ stay here, for as long as I'd like. But I really don't think I should. Nothing will ever be the same again. There are no endings, only changes. 

Goodbyes are like birds taking flight. And I'm not the only one making them. Gellert takes a moment to show Dumbledore his phoenix Patronus, and murmur to him when he thinks no one else can hear that he will always love him, no matter what place, what time, what universe. 

"You are my happy memory," Gellert whispers. 


	3. The Crucial Moment

"So, where are we headed next?" Tom asks. 

"I'm thinking of popping into my first life," I say. "The one where I was killed by the basilisk." 

"Just, no more demonic rituals, alright?" Rispy says. "That was really unpleasant." 

"At least you didn't have to _actually_ die," Gellert says. "Negotiating with demons is never pleasant business." 

We return to Torn Elkandu and I go to activate the Nexus again for our next destination. I remember this life with horror. So much death, so much pointless death, and I couldn't prevent any of it. And then I met the eyes of a basilisk, and any chance I had of continuing that life was cut short, perhaps mercifully. 

When the mist clears, I find myself laying on my back on hard floor, staring up at a high ceiling. I sit up quickly and look around. Moody is laying nearby, still and dead without a mark on him. Remus and Tonks lay dead of basilisk poison, deep fang marks piercing their bodies. And Dumbledore is on his back, eyes closed, his phoenix crying into his chest. 

This was not the point I'd intended to go back to. Damn my wandering mind. I'd meant to go back further, damn it. Not here. Not here! 

I snatch up Tom's diary from the floor with trembling hands, and look over to see a painting of Salazar Slytherin on the floor nearby. I fumble around with my bag, looking for a quill. Dumbledore slowly gets to his feet. 

"Bloody Phoenix," Slytherin says. "That lying Headmaster isn't dead yet?" He hisses words in Parseltongue to open the statue and unleash the basilisk again. 

"Stop!" I hiss to the basilisk in Parseltongue myself. "Return to your rest! Do not attack!" 

The basilisk wavers in confusion for a moment, and I'm very careful not to look directly at it. "Speaker? I am hungry. But I will obey." It turns around and goes back into the statue. 

"You? You are a Parselmouth yourself, boy?" Slytherin says. "Why did you need my help, then?" 

"Long story," I say. "Suffice it to say that nothing here was as I thought it was." 

"Lexen," Dumbledore says. "What are you playing at here? Why did you do this?" 

"I was being controlled," I say. "I did not _intend_ to kill anyone here." I sigh. 

"What?" Slytherin says. "What's really going on here, then?" 

"This was a mistake," I say. "A terrible mistake." 

I find my quill, and am thankful that I got self-inking quills. I scribble into the diary, "I'm sorry. I went to the wrong place and time." 

The words sink in, and new words appear in their place on the page. "No, I should be the one apologizing. I can't believe I did that to you." 

"I'm just going to give him a list of where to find the Horcruces, like we did in the last time, and be moving on," I write. 

"Horcruxes," Tom corrects me pedantically. 

"Whatever." 

"Lexen, what are you doing?" Dumbledore asks. 

"Let's get out of here," I say. "Let's go back to your office. I've got some information to give you. Then I'm going back again." 

I don't know why I bother. Some sort of obligation to the destiny that was asked of me. A destiny that never should have been mine in the first place. Once in his office, I pull out some parchment and write down everything I know and what Tom told me about the Horcruxes, corresponding with the diary on a couple points to make sure I have everything right. 

"Where did you get this information, Lexen?" Dumbledore asks, looking over the list. 

"Long story," I say. I seem to be using that excuse a lot lately. But it is, indeed, a very long story. And one that's only likely to get longer. "I was able to come back from the future, to the point where I died. I found a way to do that. And I wanted to come back and make things better." 

"Very well," Dumbledore says, sighing. "This has been a disaster, but thank you for the information. At least something good may come of this, somehow. Will you be going back now? I have some poison available if you require assistance with it." 

I shake my head. "That won't be necessary. I can do it on my own now. Farewell." 

* * *

The next time I return to Wizarding Earth, I find myself waking in the Burrow. Wait, when am I? This can't be when I meant to go back to, either. I sigh and pull out Tom's diary, and start scribbling in it. 

"I think I went to the wrong time again," I write. 

"When are we?" Tom asks. "I have no point of reference. I already have these memories." 

"I don't know, but I'm at the Burrow," I reply. "Aiming this power is more difficult than I thought it would be." 

"Perhaps your memories of the time were unclear and unfocused?" Tom suggests. 

"No. I remember this time. I can't get it out of my head. Maybe that's the problem. It's hard to go back before the disaster happened because I can't get the disaster out of my head. I can't stop thinking about it." 

There's a knock on the doorframe. The door wasn't even closed. Remus pokes his head in and says, "Harry? You'd best get some breakfast. We're heading over to Hogwarts shortly, remember." 

I sigh and glance down at the diary again, where Tom has written, "You need to focus more. Remember your Occlumency lessons and Shaper training." 

I shake my head and tuck the diary away in my robes. There's no point in remaining here. Killing the basilisk now would serve nothing. 

"The situation has changed, Remus," I say. 

"What happened?" Remus asks. 

"I came back from further in the future. I was trying to get before the disaster, but I'm having some trouble pinpointing when exactly I want to go. No matter. I'm going to give you some information -- _vital_ information -- and then I'm going to go again. Get this to Dumbledore, alright?" 

I pull out some parchment and write down the information on the Horcruces again. Horcruxes. Whatever. Once done, I pass it over to Remus, who looks a bit stunned. 

"What is this?" Remus asks. 

"Horcruxes," I explain. "They're magical items Voldemort has stored pieces of his soul in. They keep him immortal, and must be destroyed before he can be killed. But I'll leave that up to the Order of the Phoenix to take care of. I have faith in you. It was nice seeing you again, Remus. Farewell." 

"Wait. Harry!" 

"I'm not Harry." 

"What?" Remus blinks. 

"I'm the hope of a thousand worlds," I reply. "But I just realized that in order for there to be hope, there needs to be disaster, death, and despair. There cannot be light without the darkness." 

* * *

Back to Torn Elkandu, and back through the Nexus to Wizarding Earth. I have to focus better. I concentrate on the thought of the exact day that I want to go back to. The day that everything changed. The day half of Hogwarts staff was killed by a basilisk... 

"Wake up, you fool boy!" Snape's voice says. 

"Fuck," I mutter. "Wrong time again." 

"You couldn't say awake, could you," Snape says. "Come to my office. I'll tell you what happened." 

"I already know," I say, rummaging around for parchment and quill. "I came back from further in the future. I learned new ways to use my powers. I'm just having trouble getting to the exact moment I want to. So I'm going to give you some information and then go. Alright?" 

I have to stay calm. I find myself trembling, hands shaking a little as I write. I don't know why I'm so nervous about this. I've already been through this before. It's not like I can make things worse. 

It's not like there's any real point in doing this at all. 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and finish up my list of Horcruxes. I pass it over to Snape, who peers over it. 

This isn't pointless, I tell myself. This is an exercise in control. This is practice in using my time traveling powers to learn how to send myself to a specific moment. That's all it is. The fact that I keep giving people information about the Horcruxes is just... atonement, perhaps? I don't know. 

"Do that, and Voldemort is mortal again, and can be killed like any other man," I tell him. "I'm going now. Farewell." 

* * *

Back in Torn Elkandu once again. Who knew that this would be so difficult? I suppose it was easy for Cassie to even accidentally put us in 1933, because she wasn't thinking about a specific date. Any day before Marius came of age would have been acceptable. 

And why was it so easy to get to the end of my second life? Because, I imagine, it was such a clear memory, and the furthest point in that timeline that I saw. There weren't any other memories to get in the way. No disasters to try to avert months beforehand. 

Weren't there? I could have wished to have stopped Lockhart from destroying the trust I'd built with the Malfoys. I was so furious with him. I could torture and murder him a thousand times for all the crimes he committed against me and my friends. 

The glowing mists of the Nexus surround me and sweep me away. Damn it, so much for focusing. My mind wandered again, didn't it? When am I going to wind up this time? 

Lockhart. Lockhart is in front of me. There's others in the room, but I'm barely aware of them. I don't care. I raise my wand with fury in my eyes. So what if there's witnesses to me casting Unforgivables? It's not like I'm going to stay in this time anyway. 

"Stormseeker, no," comes Luna's voice from behind me, as if from a thousand miles away. "He hasn't done anything to you. Not in this life." 

"What?" Lockhart says. "What's going on? Did I do something wrong in some other timeline?" 

My rage is not so easily abated. "You'd better fucking believe you did," I snarl. "You modified a girl's memories to make her believe that I'd _raped_ her!" 

"W--What?" Lockhart stutters. "I would never do such a thing!" 

"Calm down, boy!" Snape demands. 

Dumbledore clears his throat. "We are here to discuss the basilisk's attack later today, not make accusations of things that may or may not have happened in some other timeline..." 

The basilisk's attack later today... So I did wind up in the right time after all. I let out a heavy sigh and lower my wand, then look to Luna sadly. 

"Your aura flared up so very brightly," Luna says quietly. "And now you are so very old. And you didn't come alone, either. Three strings of fate bind you to your companions, but only one of them is strong enough to last forever." 

"Luna..." I whisper. 

"What just happened here?" Snape wonders. 

"I just came back in time a hundred years, effectively," I say. "Well, a hundred years from my perspective, at least. The furthest ahead I've seen is 2012. And that was in a radically different timeline." 

"And you claim that I did something so horrible as _that_ in some other universe?" Lockhart says, gaping at me. 

"To be entirely fair to you, I'd just blackmailed you and tortured you into doing what I wanted," I say. "But I was still pretty fucking pissed about it all. And the moment I saw you again, the only debate on my mind was whether to say 'Crucio' or 'Avada Kedavra'." 

"Lexen... What kind of person have you become?" Dumbledore wonders. 

"I'm myself, as I've always been. Nothing less and nothing more. I've been through darkness and light. And a Dark Lord tried to draw me into darkness, but wound up being drawn into light himself instead. And here, I came perhaps to seek atonement. For getting everyone killed. I don't really know, and I won't be staying long. But--" 

My rambling is cut short by the luminous appearance of a phoenix Patronus. "Ahoy, Albus," says Gellert's voice. "Sorry to interrupt whatever important world-shaking business you're doing, but when you've got a moment, you want to meet me down at the Hog's Head for a drink? I'm here now, and your brother is practically having a cow over it." 

Dumbledore very nearly drops his wand. "What in the..." 

I put my face in my palm. "He is _irrepresible_." 

"Is that who I think it is?" Dumbledore says tentatively. 

"If you think it's Gellert Grindelwald, then yes, yes it is," I say. "He came back with me. And he seems to be having a grand old time messing with your head. No matter how many times I tell him _time travel is not a toy_." 

"Dare I ask how you came to be traveling with Grindelwald?" Snape asks dryly. 

"It's a long story," I say, smirking. I climb to my feet. "Best go and make sure he stays out of trouble." 

"But what about the basilisk?" Lockhart protests. 

"The basilisk shouldn't be attacking anyone today, or again anytime soon," I say. "That future has been changed." 

"Perhaps now would be a bad time to point out that you're not actually allowed to visit Hogsmeade until third year?" Snape puts in. 

I laugh lightly. "That's why you've always been my favorite teacher, Severus." 

Before he can protest the familiar address, I shift my age up to twenty-five or so, transfiguring my clothing to fit as I do so. It took a fair bit of practice to get that trick down so that I didn't have to use charmed clothing. 

"Watch out for nargles," Luna says. 

"No need to worry," I say. "He's not a Dark Lord anymore." I snort lightly. "Now he's just an obnoxious prat." 

"Are we thinking of the same Grindelwald?" Lockhart says. 

I have to laugh again. "Don't worry. We'll be leaving again soon, and the world will go back to being sane." 

I step up to the fireplace and toss in some Floo powder from my bag. "The Hog's Head!" I say, and step through the green flames. 

There's a handful of customers in the Hog's Head, but every eye is on the two by the bar. Aberforth has his wand out and trained on Gellert, who, for his part, is leaning casually against the bar and twirling the Elder Wand like a gunslinger in some Muggle movie. 

Dumbledore -- Albus, I suppose I should say -- comes through the Floo behind me, followed by Snape. "What's going on here?" Albus demands. 

"Albus!" Gellert says brightly, casually lowering his wand. "I was wondering if you were going to show." 

"Gellert," I say evenly. "You can just be glad we weren't _actually_ doing anything important." 

"What I want to know is how he got out of prison," Aberforth asks. "And why he doesn't look a day over thirty." 

I sigh and rub my forehead. "Subtlety is not his middle name." 

"I'm from an alternate universe," Gellert says. "And I just dropped in to say hi to my favorite people before moving on again." 

"Are you from an alternate universe where everyone is insane, or does proximity to Lexen cause that particular malady?" Snape drawls. 

"I'm starting to think it's the latter," I reply. 

"Hey, you came to have fun, why can't I have a little fun while we're at it, too?" Gellert asks. 

"'Having fun' was not the primary point of the exercise, Gellert..." I say with strained patience. 

"So, Lexen, have you done what you came here to do yet?" Gellert asks. "What is it that you came here for, anyway?" 

He doesn't care the least bit that we're not alone, that there are witnesses. And I suppose he has a point. Why does it matter? We leave a mess for everyone left behind to clean up. But we did help them, didn't we? I saved their lives solely by virtue of coming back. Since Tom came back with me into the diary, the basilisk isn't going to be attacking anyone anyway. 

"I think we're good," I reply with a sigh. 

"Is this really the best place to be discussing this?" Snape says, glancing around at the handful of patrons in the pub. 

"Not my problem," Gellert says. "So, Albus, how about a drink? If your brother will stop pointing his wand at me and serve us up some, anyway." 

"I think you need to leave my tavern," Aberforth says. "Now." 

"Come on, Gellert," I say, going up and grabbing his arm, and dragging him to the fireplace. 

"Bah, you're no fun." 

We head back through the Floo to the Headmaster's office. Lockhart and Luna are still present and waiting for us, apparently. 

"Lockhart," I say. "You may want to head over to the Hog's Head and do some damage control." 

"Damage control?" Lockhart asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"That is to say, Obliviation," I say. 

"Ah," Lockhart says, nodding. "Of course." He heads through the Floo and leaves. 

"Gellert, I'm... surprised to see you again," Dumbledore says. 

"I'll bet you are," Gellert says. 

Dumbledore's eyes fall upon the wand in Gellert's hand, an exact replica of his own. He peers at his own wand as if to ascertain that he was seeing things right and it hadn't been stolen when he wasn't looking. 

"Tell me about this other universe you mentioned," Dumbledore says. 

Gellert grunts. "It's complicated. And I've been traveling with Lexen for a while now, and I've seen several different possible worlds. But suffice it to say that, somewhere along the way, I gave upon the whole Dark Lord business, and took up other hobbies. Like watching Muggle movies." 

"Gellert, you're not going to start quoting movies that haven't even been made yet," I say. 

"Bah, what's the fun in time travel if you can't confuse people with references from the future?" Gellert says. "Sometimes your whole life boils down to one insane move." 

"It's not-- oh, forget it," I say, sighing and rolling my eyes and going to pull out a quill and parchment. 

"Apparently I'm volatile, self-obsessed, and don't play well with others," Gellert says. 

I do my best to ignore him for the moment. "I'm going to write down some important information for you," I tell Dumbledore. "Do with it what you will." 

Gellert holds out his hand to Dumbledore. "Do you trust me, Albus? I can show you the world. Shining, shimmering, splendid..." 

"Merlin help me if you start singing," I groan. 

"Oh!" Luna says. "That movie came out last year." 

"Did it?" Gellert says. 

"Father took me to see it over Christmas holidays," Luna says. 

I sigh raggedly and write down the list of Horcruxes again as quickly as possible, and pass it over to Dumbledore. "There. Do everything on this list, and you can kill Voldemort. We're leaving momentarily." 

"Perhaps you should get some sleep," Gellert says. "You sound tired." 

"I think I just want to say goodbye to my friends and leave," I say. 

Luna hugs me. "I'll miss you, Stormseeker. Perhaps sometime you can take me with you?" 

I smile fondly at her. She seems so very young, now. Lifetimes ago. "Perhaps," I say. 

Why did I ever think that 'again' was the most terrible word I could experience? Now, 'again' is a precious thing to me. A priceless treasure. The hope of a thousand worlds. The light in the darkness. 

Now, the most terrible word I can think of is 'goodbye'. Because no matter what I do, I'm always saying goodbye. Even if I were to remain here a hundred years, I would still be saying goodbye. 


	4. The Return of Padfoot

"Are we going to visit the life you were in just before I joined up with you?" Rispy asks as we're assembled again. 

I'm taking a bit of a rest at the moment to calm down, get something to eat, and relax. Sleep a bit. And this timeline seems as good a headquarters to do that in as any. We've got a home, and family that doesn't expect us to stay, who are probably surprised that we haven't left already. 

"I don't think so," I say. 

"Why not?" Rispy says. "I've been collecting all of these memories... I can see now why you came out to look for me when you got to Drypeak." 

"I don't think I can handle going to any timeline where I'd have to deal with Cassie," I say quietly. 

"Why not?" Gellert says. "I've been dealing with Albus plenty." 

"You never promised Albus to take him with you," I say. "How do I explain to Cassie that... that I _did_ take her with me, and probably can't again? How do I explain that she chose to remain behind? That she rejected immortality, rejected the multiverse? I can't explain it. I don't understand it myself." 

Tom is conspicuously quiet, however, and I turn my gaze toward him. He notices my look, and says, "I'm alright. Picking up the memories of my diary self from that timeline hasn't hurt me or changed me. It's just... I hadn't realized how much I'd changed since then. Even as a mere Horcrux, a sliver of a soul, I expected that personality to be more like me." 

"Change is the only constant in the universe, I think," I say. 

Gellert snorts and nods in agreement. "Neither of those Albuses knew exactly what to make of me, I think." 

"Albi?" I suggest. 

"Now you're just being silly," Gellert says with a grin. "I knew you had a sense of humor in there somewhere." 

"If it's any consolation, Tom," I say, "I wouldn't trade this you for the multiverse." 

Tom chuckles. "I don't feel bad about it or anything. I've achieved what I'd always grasped at -- immortality. And far, far more. And with a price that I can live with. In a manner of speaking." 

"I suppose it must have grated on you when you discovered that I had immortality without even trying for it, when you'd been prepared to spend so much trying to get it," I say. 

"Perhaps not so much that," Tom says, "as feeling foolish that there were methods that I had never even conceived of. And that I hadn't properly examined the consequences of the method that I chose to use before going through with it. I was sixteen. Sixteen! It's not like I was in any serious danger of dying of old age or anything at the time, and shouldn't have been in any danger of dying violently unless I did something stupid." 

"At least my stupid teenage mistakes didn't involve soul magic," Gellert says. 

"It was Ginny who I'd fallen into the hands of, you know," Tom says. "The diary, that is. I spent some time talking with her while you were off doing whatever. I can't believe I unleashed the basilisk. Of all the foolish, unnecessary things. I should have just leeched off her lifeforce to resurrect myself, like I did in the timeline I'm originally from, that is, the one where we first came up with the Soul Bonds..." 

"If we do much more time traveling, we're going to need to start labeling these timelines," Gellert says. 

"I think we're already at that point," Rispy says. " _I'm_ certainly starting to get confused." 

"Let's make a diagram, then, shall we?" I say, smirking. 

I get up and pull out a piece of parchment, enlarge it, and charm it to the wall. I then draw out lines of each of my lives and the years that they encompassed. 

"We could name them after what killed you each time," Gellert says. "That Time You Got Killed By the Basilisk. That Time You Got Killed By Quirrell..." 

"Let's not, shall we?" I say, smirking even more. "Let's see... Since we're using this as a headquarters, let's call it Prime. And this can be Wizarding-Alpha, Wizarding-Beta, Terrestia-Alpha, Wizarding-Gamma, Terrestia-Beta..." I scribble down the names above each line as I say them. 

"So, by that, Gellert and I bonded with you in Wizarding-Gamma, and Rispy in Terrestia-Beta?" Tom says. 

"Are we going to visit Tererestia-Alpha, then?" Rispy says. "We haven't been back there yet. I suppose I can understand you'd want to avoid Wizarding-Gamma and Terrestia-Beta if you can't handle seeing Cassie again just now..." 

"That Time You Got Killed By Barzahl?" Gellert supplies. 

"Sounds good," I say, ignoring Gellert. "Let's go." 

Tom says, "Let's go _tomorrow_. You don't want to hit exhaustion point, magical or mental. You can stand to sleep first." 

"Alright, alright," I say. "But I'm not going to sleep alone." I smirk at him. 

"Wasn't planning on letting you," Tom says with a grin. 

* * *

The next time I use the Nexus, I find myself waking up flat on my back in a swamp. I scramble to my feet, self-consciously casting a nonverbal _Scourgify_ over myself. 

My head buzzes and my muscles twitch a little. I feel... so strong, so powerful. My skin glows a little. My breathing is easy, and my movements are fluid as water, but strong as mountains. I should probably have expected that suddenly slipping into a heavily augmented body would be different. 

Battle rages around me. Spells and thorns fill the air. To either side of me, Tom and Gellert are fighting, flinging spells toward Barzahl. 

"What trickery is this?" Barzahl snarls. "You were dead! And you teleported in allies as well?" 

"Hello, Barzahl," Gellert drawls, absently flicking a burst of flame toward him. 

Barzahl dodges with canister-enhanced reflexes. "Who are you?" 

"Nobody you know," Gellert says lightly. "Not in this life, anyway. I just wanted to let you know that siding with you would always have been a mistake. I'm fighting for Lexen!" 

"This is your last chance to surrender, Barzahl," I call out. 

"You would even give him the chance?" Gellert says. 

"Surrender?" Barzahl says. "In my moment of triumph? Surely you jest." 

"I was hoping you'd say something like that," Gellert says with a wicked grin. 

Gellert raises his hands, and fire rains down upon the battlefield. Barzahl can't dodge that. He's surrounded in a swirling storm of flames, and even his heavily augmented body can only stand so much. Tom joins in with spells of his own, even as Barzahl attempts to fight back. But finally, there's nothing left of Barzahl but a sickening, charred pool of essence on the ground. 

"And this is why it does not pay to be a stupid villain," Gellert says. 

"Having fun, Gellert?" I ask. 

"Oh, yes," Gellert says. "Consider that my apology for actually listening to that fucker in Terrestia-Beta." 

I raise my hands, calling forth my magic to join in the battle myself. Power rushes forth like lightning in my veins. It comes so readily, as easily as breathing. Why did I ever give up such strength? Such unparalleled might! I find myself laughing maniacally as I blaze a path through the enemy army. I'm stronger than I've ever been before. Now, I have skill combined with augmented power. No one will be able to stand in my way now! 

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around, wondering what new enemy has gotten close enough to touch me, lightning crackling about my body. What worm dares-- 

"Lexen," says Tom firmly. "Calm down. It's over. We've won." 

I stare at him for a long moment, breathing heavily. I'd let myself get so caught up in the thrill of magic that I'd lost track of what was going on around me. I only reluctantly, so very, very reluctantly, let go of my magic and allow my electrical aura to vanish. 

"Canister problems?" Gellert says. 

"I haven't even used them in months," I say. "But here I just slipped into this augmented body, and... well, you saw the rest." 

"Was I like that, before, in Terrestia-Beta?" 

"Sometimes," Tom says. "But I think you can't entirely blame the canisters for you being a dick." He grins. 

"That's us," Gellert says lightly. "Tom, Dick, and Harry." 

I put my face in my palm and groan. "You're horrible." 

A servile comes up to where we're standing, reaper baton in hand and alert for any surviving enemies. I've gotten so used to seeing Rispy as a little Wizarding Earth elf that it takes me a moment to recognize him as a servile. And then, behind him, a man in wizard's robes is approaching as well. Sirius. 

"I thought we'd lost you this time for sure," Sirius says, peering curiously at Gellert and Tom. "We get some unexpected reinforcements?" 

"Something like that," Tom replies. 

"It's a long story," I say. 

"You and your long stories," Sirius says. "Anyway, the name's Sirius. Good to see new faces on our side." 

"I'm Tom--" 

"Ahoy, Sirius Black," Gellert says. "I'm Gellert Grindelwald." 

I snort softly in amusement. "The soul of discretion. Gellert, do you just do this in order to see the looks on people's faces?" 

"Why else?" Gellert says. "It never gets old. Especially with Albus. He's a riot to shock." 

I just sigh and roll my eyes. "Irrepresible." 

"Gellert... Grindelwald?" Sirius says, then casts a look to me. "Lexen..." 

"Like I said," I say. "Long story. Don't have time to explain it all right now." 

"Sum it up, then," Sirius says. "Never mind _why_ Grindelwald is here. I'm more interested at the moment in _how_ he's here. And why he looks younger than me. I'm assuming time travel was involved somehow?" 

"He catches on quick," Gellert says. 

"We came from further in the future," I say. "I found a way around those limitations of my power. It appears that I can go to any point in time I want when I travel to another world with the Nexus." 

"Nice. And you decided to come back here?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. 

"I got killed here," I say, pointing vaguely toward whatever mushy bits on the battlefield might have once been Barzahl. "But I came back for you." 

Sirius grins broadly. "Well, I can't say I don't appreciate the sentiment. Not that this is a bad place to be or anything, but I'd kind of miss not having your reckless, insane arse around to help me prank the whole of the Shaper empire." 

Gellert gives me an odd look. "You? Do pranks? How did he _ever_ manage to talk you into that?" 

"I was a lot younger then," I say, chuckling. "And more Gryffindorish." 

"So, you can take me home now?" Sirius says. 

"Not just that," I say. "I can take you to any point in time that you want to go." 

Sirius's eyes widen. "Halloween, 1981." 

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," I say. "We've still got a few hours to get through the Nexus. Anything anyone wants to do here before then?" 

"I think it'll be fine," Rispy says. "Not that I'd mind seeing where this timeline goes. This is a lot closer to what I'd hoped for. There's no drakons or gazers or demon-summoning lunatics here, so far as I know." 

"Dare I ask what he's talking about?" Sirius wonders. 

"In a different timeline, they'd come up with new forms of creations," I explain. "Drakons were modified drayks that were capable of Shaping. And were even more arrogant. This worked out about as well as you'd expect it to. They were making themselves out to be new, scaly Shapers, and just as bad." 

"Oh, that's lovely," Sirius drawls. "Anyway, no, I think the Rebellion can handle itself. There isn't anyone else that I really care about here. I want to go home." 

"Then home it shall be. Since you all are already in that time, you'll have to get to Godric's Hollow yourselves if you can. Shall we?" 

Everyone nods. I take Sirius's hand with a broad grin and Recall us back to the Nexus of Torn Elkandu. I'd always felt a little bad about dragging Sirius along to that world and then abandoning him there, even if I couldn't really help it. It had been a selfish wish to take him along, even if I _did_ get him out of prison and spare him from a life on the run as a fugitive from the law. 

"Never thought I'd see this place again," Sirius says, glancing around at the purple sky and the rune-covered streets. "Not that I saw much of it the first time we were through here, what with the place being under attack and all." 

I chuckle softly. "Alright, I need you to focus on that day. Get the image of it firmly in your mind. And try to think of the morning of that day, and not the night _after_ the disaster, as that won't help us get to the right point in time at all. I found that out the hard way." 

Sirius nods. "Got it." 

"Now, you've got to activate the runes," I say. "Channel your magic into the Nexus... um... Alright, how about you just take your wand and poke the activation runes directly?" 

I indicate where the runes in question are, and he follows my instructions, flaring the eight runes to life one by one. It works, and the Nexus activates, sweeping us away in a swirl of mist. 

When the mist clears, I'm standing on a street in front of a house. Alone, but that's not what's surprising. A ruined house, with part of the roof blown off. My heart sinks. Did he aim us at the wrong time? It's a bright, sunny day, seeming more like summer than autumn. 

I Apparate to Diagon Alley and check the date of the current _Daily Prophet_. July 4, 1991. We didn't go back in time at all. 

I know where Sirius is going to be in this time, much as it brings a grimace to my face to think of him back there. I Apparate as close to Azkaban as I can get, think of the rainbow, and bring out my duck Patronus. I'll just have to walk in there and get him out again. 

Dementors. Their presence hangs over the cold, dark prison like an oppressive cloud. Despair threatens to seep in to my heart even though the protection provided by my Patronus. It's been a long time since I dealt with Dementors, and here I am, just casually walking into Azkaban like I'm picking up a friend for a night on the town. 

That's alright. For Sirius, I'll walk into Azkaban as many times as is necessary. I focus upon the goal at hand and block out the Dementors as best as I can. 

"Lexen," Sirius says as I approach his cell. "This... was not where I meant to go. Did I do something wrong?" 

"It's alright," I say. "We can try again. Now, we just need to take our freedom. _Alohomora!_ " 

The spell slams into the door, and it swings open with a clatter. I haven't lost my touch. I still believe in freedom. 

"Still a Taker at heart, huh?" Sirius says as he comes out of the cell. From a closer look at him, I can see that even just such a short time around the Dementors has worn at him a bit. 

I can't help but think of all the Siriuses -- Sirii? -- in other timelines, countless timelines, suffering for crimes they did not commit. All the Toms driven mad by their own attempts at immortality, destroying themselves in the process. All the Rispies doomed to enslavement. All the Hermiones killed by trolls, all the Longbottoms tortured, all the Potters murdered, all the little Harries abused by Muggles... 

I can't save them all. It's a hopeless prospect. Why do I even bother? Why do I go out of my way to try to make a handful of timelines better? It's like removing a few drops of water from a sea of sorrow. In the grand scheme of the multiverse, what kind of a difference can I possibly hope to make? 

"Lexen?" says a voice, seeming far away, from underwater. "Lexen, are you alright? Your Patronus is wavering. We should really get out of here." There's a hand on my shoulder. 

I blink for a moment and come back to the present. Focus. My silvery duck flickers, and steadies as I concentrate on the rainbow. A cold pit of dread sinks in my stomach as I realize where I am, and the very real possibility of getting my soul sucked out. 

"Yeah," I say numbly. "Yeah, let's go." 

I make my way to the entrance of the prison as quickly as my feet can carry me, ignoring the screams as best as I can as I go, both the real ones and the ones that are only in my mind. Sirius pads along after me, having shifted into his Animagus dog form, and doesn't revert to human form until we're safely away from the place and back in Torn Elkandu. 

"Sorry about that," I say. "Merlin, I hate those things." 

"Me, too," Sirius says. "I'd hoped that I'd never have to deal with them again." 

"And I'm sorry that you had to, as well," I say. 

"I don't know what went wrong," Sirius says, peering at the obelisks. "I did exactly what you said to. I had the image focused clearly in my mind. I wasn't thinking about Azkaban at all." 

"Where were you trying to go?" Keolah pipes in. I'm surprised that we've actually gotten her attention, and had forgotten that she was even there. It's easy to think that she's just another obelisk sometimes. 

"We were trying to go back to Halloween, 1981," Sirius says. "In Godric's Hollow, in the world you call Wizarding Earth." 

"But we wound up in 1991 instead," I say. "A decade too late." 

Keolah frowns. "Time travel? I'm not aware that that's even possible..." 

"I'm a time traveler," I say. "I went back to 1933 before, completely by accident." 

"Are you?" Keolah says. "Oh, yes, I can see the Time Magic in your aura. But you weren't the one who activated the Nexus." 

I slap my forehead. "Of course! Sirius activated it. It must be my own magic that allows traveling through time. Why didn't I think of that before?" 

Cassie must have been able to do it because she was bound to my soul, and hence had access to my Time Magic herself. In order to travel through time... 

"I'm going to need to do this myself," I say, frowning. "But I wasn't there at the time." 

Maybe one of my bondmates could do it. They were there at the time, after all. At least, existing in the universe. But Gellert was in prison, Rispy was probably a small child, and Tom was stuck in a diary. But, wait, Tom had Voldemort's memories. And Voldemort was certainly there... 

"Come on," I say, pulling Sirius back into the Nexus. "I have an idea." 

We still have a few hours to play with in order to get this to work. I activate the Nexus to take us back to Wizarding Earth, setting us down on the doorstep of Malfoy Manor. I ring the doorbell, and wait to see Lucius. 

"Ah, greetings?" Lucius says, looking over me and especially Sirius with a critical eye. "Are you certain that you have the right house?" 

"You'd look like hell if you just got out of Azkaban, too," Sirius says. 

Narcissa peers into the entryway and her eyes widen when she sees him. "Cousin Sirius? What are you doing here?" 

"You aren't looking for someplace to hide, are you?" Lucius says. 

I snort softly. "Don't worry about that. We'll be moving on shortly. We just came for something that our lord and master left in your possession. A small black book with the name 'T. M. Riddle' on it. I believe it's hidden away in the secret room in the basement?" 

"Our lord... So you _were_ working for him after all?" Lucius says, then turns to me. "And who are you?" 

"I'm Lexen Chelseer, the Dark Lord's apprentice," I say. "If you question that, then write in the book asking him about it. I don't have time for fooling around." 

"I never heard of the Dark Lord having an apprentice," Lucius says. 

"And you were privy to everything the Dark Lord did?" I say. This conversation usually goes better, but Sirius being here changes my normal routine. 

"If you are truly a Death Eater, then show me your Dark Mark," Lucius says, narrowing his eyes at me. 

"Wasting time again, Lexen?" says a voice from behind me. I turn to see that Gellert has come in through the open front door. 

"And who is that?" Lucius says. 

"The name's Gellert Grindelwald." He smirks, and turns to me. "You know, it never ceases to amaze me how often you just try to negotiate with people, instead of just hitting them with a quick Imperio." 

"How'd you know where I was?" I ask. 

"When I saw you weren't at the spot we were supposed to meet, I guessed that something must have gone wrong and thought you might come here to pick up, well, You-Know-Who." He snickers softly. 

"There is no way that you are actually Grindelwald," Lucius says. "Who are you really?" 

"Gellert Doesn't Like To Waste Time, On a Short Schedule, Grindelwald, Lord of the _Crucio!_ " He punctuates that last with a flick of his wand, and Lucius screams. 

"Gellert!" I snap. "That's completely unnecessary. Stop it." 

"Oh, fine, fine," Gellert says, letting up. 

"I think, Lucius, that it would be best not to question that that's actually Grindelwald," Sirius says dryly. "He strikes me as slightly barmy." 

"Oh, hello, Mr. Black," Gellert says. "You can just call me Kettle." 

I put my face in my hand. "I don't know whether I attract crazy people, or make the people around me insane. When did I become the straight man?" 

"When you married Cassiopeia Black," Gellert says. 

"Lucius," I say. "Would you please go and get that book, before Grindelwald decides that you're a waste of time and kills you or something?" 

"Perhaps that would be for the best..." Lucius says, frowning deeply and leaving the room quickly. 

Narcissa remains where she is, continuing to stare at us warily. "Chelseer... That's not a name I'm familiar with. And why are you glowing?" 

"Long story," I say, smirking. 

"It's because he's completely awesome," Gellert says. 

"So good to see you again, too, Cissy," Sirius says. 

"Yeah, sorry I didn't murder your sister while I was in the neighborhood," I say. 

"Bellatrix?" Narcissa says in a quiet voice. "Why would you kill her, if you're Death Eaters?" 

"I'd kill or free everyone in that wretched place if I could," I say. "Maybe sometime I will." 

Lucius comes back into the entryway and tosses the small black book to me as if it were a venomous snake. I fail to grab it out of the air, fumble it, and finally cast a silent _Accio_ so that I don't have to pick it up off the floor. 

"Never play Quidditch, Lexen," Sirius says dryly. 

"Just go already," Lucius says. "I don't even care who you are anymore." 

I feel like I should probably get a list of Horcruxes to someone in this timeline too. I quickly quash the thought. I can't save everyone. The Dementor induced thoughts had a point to it, at least. I would quickly drive myself mad if I tried to 'improve' every single possible timeline out of a potentially infinite number. And I might well just screw things up even worse, like I did in Wizarding-Gamma. Not that the ultimate result of that was entirely bad, but it would have been disastrous if I'd actually continued trying to oppose Tom. 

I leave Malfoy Manor and Recall myself, Sirius, and Gellert back to Torn Elkandu. Once there, the diary shimmers and glows, and in moments, Tom's form appears beside us. 

"It's a pity that we don't have better access to this place," Tom says. "It would make for an excellent headquarters, what with the convenience of the Nexus here and the extraordinarily high concentration of magic available." 

"Yes, it does," Keolah agrees. "Why don't you stay, then? There's plenty of room for more, and you're certainly welcome." 

"Would if I could, Lady Keolah," Tom says. "But you're likely to be dead in two hours, and this place overrun by Dark Elkandu." 

"Oh, I see," Keolah says. "Well, have fun, then." 

Silly inborn Seekers. If she wore radishes for earrings, I'd say she were just like Luna. 

"Alright," I say. "Tom, can you get us to Godric's Hollow on the right day? You're the only one of us who was there. Sort of." 

"Sirius couldn't do it, I take it?" Tom says. 

"He's not bound to me, so he doesn't have access to Time Magic," I say. "I should have realized sooner that the Nexus doesn't _normally_ allow time travel." 

Tom gives a nod. "Alright. I'll do it. Just do be sure to come and get me before the battle starts. I'd dearly love to kill myself again." 

"I'm confused again," Sirius says. "Who exactly is he, anyway?" 

"I'm Tom Riddle. And not Voldemort." 

"Voldemort is helping us kill Voldemort?" Sirius says. 

"I've long since found that I'm not especially fond of my other self," Tom says. 

"Let's go, shall we?" I say. 

"Yes, let's," Tom says. 

He steps into the Nexus, his eyes glazing over a little in concentration. Then, after a moment, the glowing mists surround us again, and Torn Elkandu vanishes.


	5. Lords of Regret

This time, I'm standing alone on the same street in Godric's Hollow, but there's no house in front of me now. That's strange. Did we get to a different wrong time this time? No, wait. I seem to recall that the house was under the Fidelius Charm. I hadn't thought of that. Of course I wouldn't be able to see it, then. 

Sirius Apparates in front of me with a crack. "We did it!" 

I grin broadly. "Thought so. How are we going to get in, though?" 

"Oh, right, you don't know the secret," Sirius says. "And we're sure as hell not asking Peter for it." He growls a little. 

"We'll think of something," I say. "Failing all else, we can ambush Voldemort on the street, I suppose. I need to go pick up Tom. Can you wait here for Gellert?" 

"Sure, sure, whatever," Sirius says. "You know, if this were anyone but you, I'd be seriously questioning why we're working with Dark Lords to bring down another Dark Lord. But I trust you, Lexen." 

I smile at him, and then Apparate over to Malfoy Manor. This is going to be tricky, I think, with Voldemort still kicking around. I'll need to play my cards carefully. But I still need to be quick about it, if I'm going to have time to get him back to Torn Elkandu and then back here again. Ugh, time travel is complicated. At least we don't normally have to worry about meeting ourselves... unless we've split our souls several times. 

"Yes, do you need something?" Lucius asks impatiently. 

"Our master sent me," I say, looking at him meaningfully. "I am to retrieve something he left in your keeping. A small, black book with the words 'T. M. Riddle' on it." 

"Who are you?" Lucius asks, narrowing his eyes. 

"Someone who doesn't have time to waste," I say, glaring at him. "The master will be most displeased if I am delayed." 

"Forgive me if I seem suspicious, but I have no proof of your claims..." Lucius says. 

I whip out my wand and point it at him. "I am Lexen Gaunt, the Dark Lord's own son and Heir of Slytherin. _That_ I can prove." I hiss at him some unpleasant words in Parseltongue. 

"I-- ah... yes, yes, of course, my lord..." Lucius stammers. "My apologies. I was not even aware that the Dark Lord even had a son..." 

"He has kept me a closely guarded secret until I was ready," I say. "Now, hurry it up! My _father_ is not the most patient man." 

"Right away, my young lord," Lucius says, and he leaves the room quickly. 

I wait patiently in the entryway, ticking away the moments until the Nexus will no longer be usable. 

When he returns and hands me the book, he asks, "If I might ask, my lord, who is your mother?" 

"Cassiopeia Black," I reply. "I must go. I am on a tight schedule. Perhaps we will speak again later." 

I turn and leave, and Recall back to Torn Elkandu to allow Tom to rematerialize himself. 

"He didn't even write in me that time," Tom says once he's human again. "What did you _say_ to him?" 

"I claimed I was Lexen Gaunt, the son of you and Cassie, and the Heir of Slytherin. Being able to speak Parseltongue helped." 

Tom has to laugh at that. "After spending decades pretending to be _your_ son, that's amusing." 

"Pretending?" I say with a smirk. "We did officially adopt you and everything. Let's go. Sirius is waiting for us." 

I activate the Nexus again to return us to Godric's Hollow. Sirius and Gellert are standing outside on the street where we arrive. 

"Good, you're here," Sirius says. "I've already informed James and Lily of the situation. Although I glossed over a few details..." 

I snicker softly. "For the best, probably." 

Tom looks off at apparently nothing. "Looks like I apparently have the secret still." 

"Are we going to be able to get the other two inside somehow?" Sirius asks. 

"I have an idea," Tom says, grinning. "Lexen, make like a kid, will you? You're a bit heavy as you are." 

I shrink myself down to the age of a toddler, transfiguring my clothes along with me so that I don't wind up naked. Tom comes over and picks me up. 

"Of course!" Sirius says. "Little Harry wouldn't have been able to understand the secret even if they'd told him, but they still brought him inside just fine." 

Gellert takes my cue and transforms himself into a small child as well. "Guess you can carry me in, then, Sirius." 

Sirius picks up Gellert. Tom carries me toward apparently nothing. It's a little disorienting, and I close my eyes as we pass through the boundaries of the Fidelius Charm. Once I hear us pass through a doorway, I open them again. 

"Worked like a charm," Gellert says, hopping down from Sirius's arms and aging himself up to twenty again. 

"You must be the allies Sirius spoke of," says a dark-haired man, presumably James Potter. 

"That we are," I say, following suit and returning to adult form again. "Allow me to introduce us. I'm Lexen, and this is Tom and Gellert." 

"Do you really think Voldemort will attack soon?" James wonders. 

"Absolutely," I say. "But he sure as the Abyss won't expect _us_ to be here." 

"Thanks for doing this for me, guys," Sirius says. "It means a lot to me." 

"How would he even find this place?" James asks. "We _are_ under a Fidelius Charm here, and I doubt anyone's going to just sneak him across..." 

"Wormtail's a traitor," I say. 

" _What?_ " James exclaims. "Are you sure of that? I never thought... Peter... would stoop so low..." 

"It's true," Tom says. "He's a Death Eater. He's been passing along information for over a year now." 

"Oh, Peter," sighs a woman's voice from the stairs. That must be Lily. 

"How do you know all this?" James asks. 

"Long story," I say. 

"Long stories can have summaries, Lexen," Sirius says with a smirk. 

"Alright, then, let me sum up," I say, also smirking. "Time travel." 

"That wasn't such a long story," James says. 

"You're... from the future?" Lily says. 

"It's more complicated than that, but let's just leave it there for simplicity's sake," I say. 

"Regardless," Tom says. "It's Halloween. Voldemort is going to attack tonight, when dark magic is strongest. Don't worry, Lily. The ritual you've prepared to protect Harry shouldn't be necessary now." 

"How do you know about--" Lily begins. 

"Time travel," I interrupt. 

"Right, of course," Lily says. 

Despite everything, however, I still can't shake the feeling that something is going to go horribly wrong somewhere along the way. Have I just become paranoid? Or have I just become used to misfortune? 

We set up some last-minute defenses and settle in to wait uneasily. The intention here is not merely to save the Potters, but to lure Voldemort into a trap where he can be destroyed. And one more world given hope. 

Tom is missing his wand, so I pass him over one of the extra ones from my bag. If it carried over to this world at all, it probably landed somewhere in the Malfoys' storage room. 

Night falls. Inky darkness descends upon the world in black. My heart pounds nervously in my chest as I wait in the sitting room. But Tom seems calm. Grinning a little, almost eager. At least one of us is content. 

Bang! Crash! The front door flies open, and a figure is silhouetted in the doorway. Pale skin, glowing red eyes, a snake-like visage. Black robes flutter around him like a cloak made of bats. 

"I see what you meant about the nose," I have to comment. 

"What is this?" Voldemort demands as Tom rises and steps in front of him. "You!? How can this be?" 

"Yes, it's me. Tom Riddle." 

"You call yourself by that filthy Muggle name?" Voldemort says. 

"Better Muggle than French," Tom says wryly. "And better eternal than mad!" 

"Come now, Tom," Gellert says. "We are all mad here." 

"And who might you be?" Voldemort demands. 

"Gellert Grindelwald." He grins. 

" _What?_ " James exclaims. 

I roll my eyes. So much for any sort of subtlety. "Let's just get this over with." 

I slip into battle mode as the curses start to fly. Voldemort had come here expecting to fight two young Aurors and a baby, not three old, experienced time travelers, one of whom is heavily genetically augmented. And we'd made quite sure that once he walked into our trap, he wasn't getting away. 

I thrill with the power rushing through my veins. And in the end, Tom has to stop me from destroying the house. "Calm down, Lexen," he says firmly. 

I take a deep breath and let my crackling aura dissipate. I hope I didn't cause too much collateral damage. It would be ridiculous if we came here to help, only to have me accidentally destroy everything in a mile radius. 

Voldemort lays broken and bloody in the middle of the sitting room floor. Tom steps up to him and grabs him by the throat. He's still alive? 

"Now, you..." Tom says in a low, dangerous voice. "You pathetic, posturing soul fragment with delusions of grandeur. You've done quite enough, in this world and elsewhere. No more." 

"You... can't kill me..." Voldemort rasps. 

"Can't I?" Tom says. "Watch me. I'm sorry that any of this ever happened. I regret ever making the Horcruxes. I regret ever being _you_." 

"No... no..." Voldemort whispers. 

" _This is what remorse feels like_ ," Tom hisses. 

Voldemort's eyes widen, and the red glow suddenly turns dead black. His jaw drops, and he starts screaming. Tom clenches his teeth, drawing heavily upon my magical energy. I can see that he is in pain as well, but he's so focused, so intense, he makes it seem so easy. After several long moments of weak struggle, Voldemort goes limp, and Tom drops him unceremoniously to the floor. 

"Tom, are you alright?" I ask, going up to him and putting a hand on his arm. 

"Fine," he says, shuddering a little. "Fine. I'm fine. I just feel like I need to Scourgify the inside of my soul. I probably shouldn't do that very frequently." 

"What just happened here?" James wonders. 

"Unless I'm mistaken, it looks like old Snakeface is dead," Sirius says. 

"Deader than dead," Tom says. He looks as though he's just run a marathon. "You might still want to destroy his Horcruxes, just in case." 

"Horcruxes?" Lily says. 

Tom goes over and slumps down in a chair. "Sorry, I think we're going to have to stay the night, or a couple of days maybe. We expended a lot of energy tonight, and I'd rather we recuperate a bit before moving on. If you'd rather we go somewhere else, though, that's alright." 

"I think we deserve an explanation," James says. 

"James, they just very likely saved our lives," Lily says. 

"I'll explain what I can," Tom says. "I'll answer whatever questions you've got. Just don't expect much more magic out of me at the moment." 

"Take note," Gellert says. "Slightly saner ex-Dark Lord is admitting that he's weak. And hey, if you decide to try to kill him, I'm certainly not going to help him. We came here to save you, not to wind up killing you anyway." 

"That's the most rational thing I've heard out of you in a while, Gellert," I say. 

"What? You're the one who keeps telling me that killing people isn't the solution to everything." 

"You are all more than welcome to stay here for a while," Lily says. "We have a guest room, and we can transfigure some beds for you if you want." 

"But first, the explanations," James says impatiently. "Who are you, really?" 

"Time travelers from an alternate universe," I say. 

"Multiple alternate universes, technically," Gellert adds. "It's complicated." 

"So, you really _are_ Grindelwald?" Lily says. "And... Tom here, really is Voldemort?" 

"I'm the man who, under other circumstances, would have been Voldemort," Tom says. "I was a piece of a soul preserved at the age of sixteen, who managed to become strong enough to live again. Then I reabsorbed the other fragments, and forcefully absorbed the main piece. And then absorbed the main pieces of my soul in two other timelines as well." 

"How did you do that?" Lily wonders. 

Tom chuckles faintly. "Remorse. To create a Horcrux requires committing murder, an act of evil, to sacrifice another for the continuation of the self. To absorb one again requires feeling true remorse. I doubt there's any precedent, however, for a Horcrux to be able to reabsorb the main soul. But there's no precedent for a madman to decide to make seven Horcruxes, either. He'd made so many that his soul was severely weakened because of it. Since I was the first Horcrux made, I was actually the largest and strongest piece remaining." 

"So effectively, you are, and are not, Lord Voldemort?" Lily says. 

"Pretty much, yeah," Tom says. "And now I'm traveling the multiverse with Lexen." 

"Who seems intent upon righting wrongs, delivering justice, and attempting to bring hope, redemption, and freedom to all beings," Gellert says. "I think he's probably the craziest of us." He chuckles. 

James sighed. "Fine. I suppose I can't, in good conscience, throw you out. And by 'good conscience' I mean that I'd never hear the end of it from my wife. I am, however, going to dispose of _this_." He nudges the corpse with his foot. "Any special precautions I should take with it?" 

"Not particularly," Tom says. 

"It's so much more convenient when they turn to dust, or a pile of goo to be just mopped up, or something, isn't it," Gellert says. 

James grunts, and hovers the hideously deformed body out of the room. 

"I'd better go check on Harry," Lily says. "Do make yourselves at home." She heads upstairs. 

I look over to Tom with some concern. I can tell from our bond that he's positively exhausted, and has pulled as much magical energy from _me_ as he clearly dares to. "Are you sure you're alright? That seems to have taken more out of you than the last one." 

"The last one wasn't still in his own body," Tom says. "And was also considerably weaker. Bah, I'm going to want to do another purification ritual again after this, too. I doubt I'm going to feel clean again until I do." 

Sirius is working on transfiguring beds for us. "Damned good to have my own wand again," he mutters. "Never thought I'd see it again." 

I remember the potions in my bag, pull one out, and say, "You want an essence potion, Tom?" 

Tom shrugs and takes it, and drinks it down. "Couldn't hurt, I suppose, but it's not just the energy levels that are the problem. If it were, that would be simple enough. I'm going to need to meditate or something, I think." 

The front door opens again, and I jump a little in startlement, my heart leaping into my throat. Paranoia, perhaps. This time, it's Albus Dumbledore who enters the Potter home. 

"Headmaster," I say, nodding to him and relaxing a bit. 

"We're safe now, Albus," Sirius says. "But someone better hunt down that rat, Peter. And it's not going to be me." 

"I'll admit I was surprised when I received James's Patronus," Dumbledore says. "Not the least of which when he hinted at the identities of those who came to help." He looks critically over toward Tom and Gellert. 

"Hullo, Albus," Gellert says, smiling back at him. 

"Did he mention the time and dimension travel, too?" I say. 

"He did not," Dumbledore says. 

"Well, long story short, we're from another universe," I say. "Point in fact, observe that both you and Gellert apparently have the Elder Wand." 

Gellert holds up his wand with a grin. 

"You know about that?" Dumbledore says, glancing between me and him. 

"Of course he does," Gellert says. "I told him about it in the first place." 

Dumbledore frowns deeply. "So what happened to Voldemort?" 

"Dead," Tom says. "Very dead. Probably permanently, if you're not stupid about it." 

"And yet I see him sitting before me, albeit looking better than he has in a long time," Dumbledore says. 

James returns then, nodding to Dumbledore as he enters the room. "I'm glad you came. Maybe you can figure this out." 

Tom slides his eyes shut and sighs softly. "Lexen, would you assure Albus, please? I need some quiet time, I think." 

"Of course," I say. 

Tom gets up unsteadily and stumbles into the next room, steadying himself on the doorframe. I'm more than a little worried about him, but right now, I have a task to do. And I'm sure he asked me rather than Gellert because Gellert is more than likely going to say things that really don't help. 

"So, Albus, I was meaning to ask," Gellert says. "Did you ever find another boytoy to boink, anyway?" 

Like so. I groan softly and put my face in my hands. "Gellert, can you be serious for five minutes?" 

"Hmm..." Gellert says thoughtfully, glancing over at Sirius. 

I sigh. "Never mind." 

Dumbledore just gapes at Gellert for several long moments before finally saying, "You are more... forward than I remember you as having been." 

"Sorry about him, Headmaster," I say. "I can't take him anywhen lately." 

"I think he's just trying to distract from any questions about your dear friend Tom," Sirius says. 

"Curses, foiled again," Gellert says. 

Dumbledore fumbles with his pockets and pops something into his mouth. "Lemon sherbet, anyone?" 

"Oh, I love those things!" Gellert says. "How much Calming Draught did you use on this batch, anyway?" 

Gellert takes the sweet from Dumbledore and sucks on it cheerfully, but I pass on them. 

"I redeemed the Dark Lord with the power of love," I finally say. 

It still sounds ridiculous and I can barely manage to say it with a straight face, but this _is_ Dumbledore I'm talking to. 

"Ah, I see," Dumbledore says, nodding sagely. 

Wait, what? Did he actually buy that? Really? 

"And he redeemed _me_ with the power of showing me what an arse I was being," Gellert says. 

"You ran off with a madman, got me captured, and tried to kill me," I say. "And worse, you broke an oath of loyalty to do it." 

Gellert winces at that. "Yeah. Yeah. I know." He sighs. "I don't know how _you_ can handle the augmentation as well as you are at the moment." 

"By not making excuses about my own choices," I say. "I'd rather not delude myself, even in my own mind, that I don't have a choice about whatever I might be doing. I _will not_ allow anyone or anything to control me against my will. You chose to ignore my warnings about the augmentation canisters. You used them anyway. You didn't stop even when you knew they were driving you mad. I indulged you. I offered you all the canisters, all the power you wanted. But you still chose to run off with Barzahl. I would have given you everything, and you still turned against me anyway." 

Gellert rubs his eyes, and then looks at Dumbledore. "And that is the long and short of it. When I was no longer under the influence of the canisters, it was like I'd woken up the next morning, with a hangover, and remembering quite clearly having been dancing on the table wearing nothing but a lampshade on my head and hitting on Rita Skeeter. Only a complete imbecile wouldn't see the error of their ways after that." 

"Regret is what draws us together," I say quietly. 

"We all have our regrets," Gellert says, looking at the floor. "Lexen regretted not being able to save his cousins. Tom regretted having made his Horcruxes, and what he had to do to make them. Cassie regretted having failed her little brother and shutting herself away from the world. Sirius clearly must've regretted how tonight's attack on the Potters would have gone without our intervention. And I regret... I regret ever fighting with you, Albus." 

Dumbledore gives a small nod, and says softly, "Thank you." 

"It's not much, I know," Gellert says. "I don't have much to offer in this time, and I won't be here much longer." 

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore says. "But perhaps it is enough." 

* * *

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" I ask Tom. 

It's noon on November 1st, and we're eating breakfast. Everyone in this house had a long night. But at least we weren't celebrating the death of a Dark Lord all night. 

"I'll be fine," Tom assures me in a tone that isn't particularly reassuring. "I just need some time to rest." He finishes up eating hurriedly and goes off to the next room. 

Gellert snorts softly, and says to me quietly, "Once we're done _resting_ , perhaps a trip to the Summer Solstice for a Ritual of Purification would be in order. Just to be sure." 

I nod to him in agreement. 

"It's strange," Lily says. "Dumbledore seemed so convinced that prophecy was real." 

"It was," I say. "Insofar as prophecies are real, anyway. It predicted something that _might_ happen. But that's the extent of how far you can actually predict the future. Even without taking into account time travelers showing up out of nowhere and mucking everything up." 

"Not that we're complaining about you... mucking this up," Lily says. "Whatever James might say." 

"And, of course, that prophecy could only predict that little Harry would have the 'power' to vanquish the Dark Lord, and not that he actually _would_ vanquish the Dark Lord. And it wouldn't do a damned thing to help if he wound up getting raised by your Muggle sister, and then fall down a staircase and break his neck at the age of five." 

Lily's eyes widen, horrified. "That... wasn't just a hypothetical, was it. Why would Petunia have gotten her hands on him? He was supposed to go to Sirius..." 

"I decided to be an idiot and go try to rip Peter to shreds, and got sent to Azkaban," Sirius says. 

Lily sighs. "Always so impulsive." 

"Yeah, I didn't think that one through very well," Sirius says. "Lexen, it looks like I owe you once again. I mean, I already repaid you for breaking me out of Azkaban by taking care of your drooling arse for five years." He grins at me. 

"I'd say not to remind me, but I can't remember it anyway," I say. "And I'd say there's no need to repay me, but I'd _really_ like to learn how you made the Marauder's Map." I grin back at him. 

Sirius laughs aloud. "You have but to ask." 

Tom comes back into the dining room, wearing bright yellow robes. I stare at him as he walks over toward me. Bright, sunshine yellow. Hufflepuff yellow. 

"Tom. Yellow? Really?" 

Tom chuckles. "I think I'd like to get out for a bit, and I'm going as a Hufflepuff today." 

"I have no words," I say. 

"I guess I finally fulfilled the only thing Severus ever asked of me, too," Tom says. "To spare Lily." He smiles faintly at Lily. 

"He... asked you for that?" Lily says. 

"He did," Tom says. "And today I'm feeling like it pays to be loyal and to keep one's promises. So... Hufflepuff." 

"You never cease to amaze me, Tom," I say. 

We head out, and Apparate over to Diagon Alley. There's joy and celebration in the air -- people are letting off fireworks, dancing in the streets, hugging total strangers. Nobody even pays much mind to the rather well-dressed little elf with a long knife at his belt. 

"Hullo, Rispy," I say, beaming at him. 

Rispy tips his very small tophat to us. "I was wondering if you were going to come. Pity I missed the show last night." 

"There wasn't really much to see," Tom says. 

"You sell yourself short," I say, grinning at him. 

Tom stares off at the streets. The ice cream parlor is handing out free ice cream today. People are getting drunk in public. Children are spun about and thrust overhead. For some of them, it seems like this is the first time they've seen the outside world. 

"They're all so happy," Tom whispers in Parseltongue, barely audible even to me, standing right next to him. "They really _hated_ Voldemort, didn't they." 

"I hope people never celebrated like this whenever _I_ died," I reply. 

Then, out from the crowd, Lucius Malfoy approaches me. Smiling thinly. "Lexen Gaunt. Fancy seeing you here." 

"And you," I say. "Already done with the Ministry? That was quick." 

"Oh, yes," Lucius says. "It did not take long to explain how I was under the Imperius Curse the entire time." 

"I'm sure you're quite grateful about having been released from that servitude," I say. "Why don't we head down to my favorite pub in Knockturn Alley and have a drink, on me?" 

"Certainly," Lucius says. As we head off in that direction, he asks, "And who might your associate be? And why is your house-elf dressed so strangely?" 

"I'm not--" Rispy begins. 

"Rispy," I warn. "Let's not start an incident." 

Rispy grunts. "An incident would be putting someone's eye out." 

"Exactly," I say. 

We head into the bar where I met up with Tom so many times in another life, in Wizarding-Gamma. 

"Drinks are on the house today," says the bartender. 

"No, no," I say. "The house is on _me_ today." 

I pull out a galleon from my bag and toss it over to him. Far more than a few drinks are worth. The bartender snatches it out of the air and smiles at me, and doesn't complain about the charity. He doesn't even give Rispy a second glance, either. Once we have our drinks, I put up a privacy spell over our table. 

"So, what did you _do_ , Lexen Gaunt?" Lucius demands. "You took that book from me, and then that very night, I hear of the Dark Lord being defeated? And yet..." 

"And yet your Dark Mark hasn't changed?" I say with a smirk. 

"What is going on here?" Lucius wonders. "And who _are_ you?" he asks Tom. 

"You can just call me Thomas Gaunt." 

Lucius stares at him. "Lexen's... brother?" 

"Not exactly," Tom says, grinning at him. "Observe." 

Lucius hisses, and his hand goes to his forearm. His eyes widen and he gapes at Tom. "You..." 

"Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated." Tom gives a smile like a cat that just ate the goldfish. 

"My lord..." Lucius says, licking his lips nervously. "How? Everyone seems so convinced that you're gone..." 

"Let them have their celebrations," Tom says, staring off. "I was trying to save the wizarding world, you know. Not destroy it. And now, look. Look at what I've done. What _we've_ done. How many have died in the name of salvation? And how many of those were purebloods? On both sides?" 

"I-- I don't know, my lord," Lucius says. "I have lost track..." 

"Precisely," Tom says. "Lucius, I will be going soon. There are some things I would like you to do, but you are under no obligation to carry them out." 

"My lord?" says Lucius in confusion. 

"I want you to keep your family safe. Have children. Have as many children as you can. The world needs more purebloods. More wizards, regardless of their blood status, even. Encourage the others to do the same. I must see if I can keep them out of Azkaban... Deny me, renounce me publicly, it doesn't matter. You've already done so. Stand by that. Be free and live. Forget all this madness." 

"My... lord... What _happened_?" Lucius stammers. 

Tom lets out a heavy sigh. "It is a very long story. Suffice it to say, I regained my sanity." 

"Are we going to gather up the Death Eaters one more time, then... father?" I ask tentatively. 

Tom gives a nod. "I created this mess. I mean to fix it."


	6. Shrouded Meetings

"Why should we listen to this bollocks?" Rabastan Lestrange demands. "How do we even know that this is really our lord? Who is he, really? He just looks like some random bloke! I say this is a trick. We should go our own way. Back to the war!" 

" _Crucio!_ " I scream. 

Rage ripples through my body, and pleasure. It feels _good_ to cast this spell. To have such power and control! How dare they question me? These fools will not underestimate me again! 

"You know, normally I'd step in and stop him," Tom says absently. "But I think I'll just let him teach you a lesson himself." 

"You leave my brother alone, you son of a Muggle!" Rodolphus says, flicking his wand at me. 

I stop and turn to look as I see a flash of purplish energy floating toward me as if in slow motion. Strong, but spread out, too long a line to dodge. I lift my right hand, empty of any wand, and think _Protego_. The dark magic splashes around me like a wave crashing around a lighthouse. It didn't hurt me, but it did divert my attention from what I was doing and force me to let up on my curse. 

"Oh, now you're stupid enough to attack him?" Tom drawls. "I'm _definitely_ not going to stop him from doing whatever he wants to you." 

"Are you mad, Lestrange? Both of you?" Snape says. "He controls our Dark Marks! What more proof do you need that he's really who he claims to be?" 

The situation only degenerates from there, and in the haze of my mind, I'm barely aware of torturing others in a blind rage. The only thing that matters is the power coursing through my veins, the magic pulsing around me. 

At one point, I find myself yelling at Yaxley, "You want to rape Muggle women, and then complain in twelve years when Mudbloods show up at Hogwarts? Your ilk have probably supplied at least half of the next generation of Mudbloods!" 

Fury strikes out like a whip, crackling electricity along my glowing skin. I'm distantly aware of Yaxley falling to the ground screaming until he can scream no longer. And then I move on to another target. 

Why did I dismiss this sort of power before? I didn't think I couldn't take it with me, at the time. But now I find that that impression was mistaken. I can, indeed, take an augmented body with me to other worlds. And it feels so wonderful... 

Finally, Tom's voice cuts through the fog, and says, "Lexen. The meeting's over. It's time to come back." 

I blink at him for a moment, my eyes focusing. It's just the two of us and Snape now, sitting in a room I think I vaguely recognize as Riddle Manor. It occurs to me, after a moment, why would I _want_ to take an augmented body with me to other worlds? I'm twisted, inhuman, and half mad, and it's all because of the canisters, I know. I need to keep control of myself. I need to be more careful and focused. 

"What is wrong with him, my lord?" Snape asks. 

"They're gone now, Severus," Tom says. "There's no need to call me _my lord_ any longer. Lexen, you with us again?" 

I blink again, and nod. "I'm here. Sorry I lost control like that." 

Tom waves his hand. "I let you." He looks to Snape and says, "His body has been augmented in order to make him capable of using more powerful magic, and to use magic more easily. This is what causes the glowing effect you see on his skin and particularly in his eyes. But it has unfortunate side-effects." 

"I see," Snape says, frowning. "My l-- _sir_ , can you tell me what exactly happened last night? What happened with Lily?" 

"She's fine," Tom says, smiling. "Lily is alive and well." 

"I... thank you, sir," Snape says, bowing his head low toward Tom in deference. 

"Tom. Call me Tom. As to what happened... I destroyed the 'me' who was about to kill her. The perils of splitting one's soul in an attempt to gain immortality is when the bit of soul you split off develops a mind of its own and decides it doesn't like what you're doing." 

"Tom," Snape repeats, frowning again. "What will happen now?" 

"Now? Just what I told them," Tom says. "If they're smart, they'll go off and raise families and see about repairing the damage we've done to wizarding society. You probably should think about it, too. It might be too late for you and Lily, but I'm sure there's some witch out there willing to bear your children, or even a Muggle." 

"You would suggest that I marry a Muggle woman?" Snape says, raising an eyebrow. 

"I know you're a half-blood," Tom says. "And I'm a half-blood myself. My father was a Muggle, too." 

"I-- I did not realize that, my-- Tom," Snape says. It's really strange seeing him off-balance like this. "Why the talk of pureblood supremacy, then?" 

"Not pureblood supremacy," Tom says. " _Wizard_ supremacy. The sustainment and continuation of our culture and society." Tom sighs. "But it got out of hand, and my methods drove me mad. Too much bloodshed, too much death. Now, we'll be fortunate if our society can continue as it is at all. There are too few wizards. Too many old families are now extinct or in danger of it. If we must marry Muggles to survive, then so be it. Let us marry Muggles, then. Anything else is madness." 

"You didn't speak this way in front of the others," Snape says. 

Tom nods. "It was enough to get them to listen at all, and put a stop to the violence. In a single day, I'm not going to get purebloods to recognize that they're heading for extinction. And that's notwithstanding the Muggles' inevitable discovery of us." He shakes his head. "I can only hope that things can be calm when I'm gone." 

"Are you going somewhere?" Snape wonders. 

"There's noplace in this world for me," Tom says. "I'm traveling the multiverse with Lexen here. We'll be moving on to another world soon, once our business here is finished." 

"What will happen then?" Snape asks. 

Tom shrugs. "Let the world think I'm dead. Let my former followers get on with their lives. Is a new era of peace and prosperity too much to ask for? I don't know. I've done what I can, short of staying here and hunting down anyone that threatens that." 

We did that once. I don't care to do it again just yet. Perhaps some other time, in some other world. 

* * *

"Whatever possessed me to think that collecting such a congregation of lunatics was a good idea?" Tom says, slumping down in a chair in the Potter home in Godric's Hollow. 

"You were even crazier than them, once," I point out. 

Tom snorts. "Point. And most of them didn't even really listen until you started Crucioing everyone." 

I wince. "That's grammatically horrible." 

"I really don't care about grammar," Tom says with a smirk. "And when did I become saner than you, anyway?" 

"Who were you torturing today?" Gellert pipes in curiously. 

"Mostly the Lestranges, although Yaxley got a good five minutes, too," I say. "At least those were the ones I can remember." 

"No, I'm pretty sure you gave at least half of them a round of it," Tom says. 

"Who was torturing who?" Sirius wonders, poking his head into the room. 

"Lexen is quite good at the Cruciatus Curse and really doesn't like Death Eaters overly much," Tom replies. 

"I'm disturbed by the former, and can't blame him for the latter," Sirius says, smirking and dropping into a cushy chair. "So what's happening with the Death Eaters?" 

"I'm pretty sure we convinced them to go off and tend to their families and leave everyone more or less alone," I say. 

"And any of them crazy enough to _still_ get themselves killed or thrown in Azkaban deserves their fate," Tom adds. 

Sirius chuckles. "There's a point to that." He relaxes in his chair, staring off. "I still can't believe I'm really back here. I mean, I believe it, it's just, Merlin... I never thought it would really happen. This is going to take some getting used to. Being home. Having my life left. What am I going to do now?" 

"Sirius, you just need to find a nice girl to produce heirs. And marry Remus. Not necessarily in that order." 

Sirius blinks at me. "I-- you-- I didn't realize you knew about... that." 

I snort softly. "It was only obvious. Besides, I attended your wedding in another timeline." 

"My-- I had an actual _wedding_?" 

"Yep. Your mother even attended." 

"She didn't disown me?" 

Tom says, "Cassie wouldn't let her. In fact, Cassie wouldn't hear a word about Andromeda, either." 

"Cassie? You mean my great-aunt Cassiopeia?" 

"Yeah," I say quietly. "Cassie was... well... she was my wife." 

"Oh," Sirius says. "I... er, but... I thought you were gay." 

"I'm bisexual," I say. 

"Or badass-sexual," Tom says with a wry grin. 

"Cassie was definitely not someone to mess with," I say, smiling fondly. 

"I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time picturing Aunt Cassiopeia getting married, or being a badass, or forceful enough to stop my cousin from being disowned for marrying a Muggleborn." 

"I think you would hardly have recognized her," I say quietly. "She embraced her second chance at life with a fervor." I blink slowly, my eyes stinging. 

"Lexen?" Sirius says. "Are you crying? I'm sorry, mate, how long ago did you lose her? From your perspective, that is?" 

"A week or so, I think," I say. "She was fresh in the ground when we started world hopping again. I couldn't stay there any longer." 

"I didn't realize..." Sirius says. "Do you want to go over and see her while you're here?" 

"I-- I don't know if I could bear it," I say. "I mean, she's Cassie, but she's not _my_ Cassie." 

"And yet she's still Cassie, nonetheless," Tom says gently. "She's never really gone. You're an inborn Time Mage." 

"But how could I tell her I can't take her with me?" I say. 

" _This_ Cassie isn't going to be expecting you to take her with you," Tom says. 

"I suppose," I say hesitantly. 

"It's just your own insecurities, you know," Gellert says. "Don't flinch away from it. What did you think she meant by 'Seek her in eternity', anyway? Certainly not any heaven or hell. _This_ is your eternity. She _meant_ that if you want to see her again, you can always find her somewhere in time. She will always be there. You never really have to lose her." 

I close my eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. I hadn't really thought about it that way. "But it would still mean I'd have to say goodbye," I whisper. 

Gellert snorts softly. "You're so caught up on that. I think the world and the people in it can get on just fine without you." 

"I suppose," I say, smirking a little. "Alright, alright. I'll go and see her. Tomorrow. Right now, I think we've got a Charms lesson scheduled. Sirius?" 

"Certainly," Sirius says, grinning broadly. "Although I hope you've brushed up on your Charms skills since the last world. You knew a hundred ways to kill things, but you could hardly do basic charms." 

I chuckle. "I managed an E in my Charms OWL, at least. Never took NEWT level Charms. But if I can't perfect the charms required, at least make sure Tom gets it?" 

Tom says, "Yes, I'm quite interested to see what you did with this. I'm guessing there were Naming Charms involved, but how did you get it to track people?" 

"I never thought I would be teaching Voldemort how to make a magic map," Sirius mutters. 

I'm thankful for the Shaper mental conditioning that the three of us went through. I might sometimes forget people's names -- I really need to remember that I know the Naming Charm and can cast it nonverbally -- but spells in particular fall in place fairly readily. 

"An E in your Charms OWL, you said?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. "You've got a long way to go, but that's just practice and refinement of details, precision work. You have the basics down already. I was expecting to be spending weeks just getting the foundation for the basics down!" 

"You can thank the Shapers for that, I think," Tom says. 

"Or, like, not, since they were bastards," Gellert adds. "And we were just kind of using them to gain knowledge." 

Lily pokes her head into the room. "Ah, you're back. I didn't notice. It took forever to get Harry to sleep. And James is still out meeting with the Order, I guess. What were you doing all day?" 

"Meeting with Death Eaters, mostly," Tom says, rubbing his eyes. 

"Oh..." Lily says, clearly not sure what to say to that. "Perhaps it would be best not to say that in front of James." 

"No shit," Sirius agrees. 

"Perhaps I should stick around a couple more days than I'd intended to in order to see who the most foolish of them is," Tom says. "And then let Lexen kill those." 

I have to grin broadly at that. Although from the way Lily looks at me, she seems more scared of _me_ than of Tom. I can handle that, though. 

"Er, right. Oh, by the way. What were those potions you used to restore magical energy?" Lily asks, quickly changing the subject. "Essence potions, you called them?" 

"Oh," I say. I pull out a hand-written book from my bag and pass it over to her. "You might as well have this. I won't have any use for it when I go, anyway." 

"What is this?" Lily asks, opening it and looking through it. 

"A copy of Gellert's Potions notes," I say. "Well, I helped with some of it, but Potions was never something that came readily to me, so I mostly did chopping ingredients and theoretical work. Tom and Albus also helped, as well." 

"I have never even heard of most of these concepts mentioned," Lily says. 

I chuckle. "We developed a number of interesting things based on research collected in another world. You might also be interested in the 'cure' of sorts we found to allow Squibs to use magic. We used a machine for it at first, that took us over a year to build, but later we managed to refine it into a potion. A very complicated potion, mind you." 

"Thank you," Lily says. "This is incredible, priceless! Oh, Severus would love to see this..." She trails off with an odd note to her voice. 

"I'm sure he would love to see you again even more," I say. 

"He was worried about you, you know," Tom says. "And relieved to learn that you're alright." 

"Maybe I should send him an owl," Lily says thoughtfully, then sighs. "I can't forget that hateful thing he called me, though. Just like all the other Slytherins..." 

I snort softly. "You're not a Mudblood, Lily. Your mother was actually a Squib from a pureblood line." 

Lily blinks at me. "She... was? How do you know that?" 

"Because I'm your first cousin once removed," I say. "Magnolia Caithnor was my great-grandmother's second-born child. Not that it really matters, anyway. Between disowning their Squib children and raping Muggles, I'm shocked that the purebloods wonder where supposed Muggleborns come from at all." 

Lily stares at me with a look of horror and disgust. "Oh..." 

"I apologize for Lexen," Tom says. "He's a little blunt sometimes." 

"At least he's not swearing like the Boondock Saints at the moment," Gellert says. 

"I don't even know who those are," I say. 

"It's alright," Lily says. "At least he's honest, and I can appreciate that." 


	7. Black Reunion

I'm already having second thoughts as Sirius, Tom, and I walk up toward Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. At least we got Gellert to stay behind. Or rather, he wanted to go off and have a chat with Dumbledore, himself. I can only imagine what they might be saying. 

"I'm really not looking forward to this," Sirius says. "I don't even think she's actually living here." 

"But we don't know where she _is_ living right now, and they're likely to know," I say. "And while they might ignore an owl, they can't ignore us in person." 

"Do try to refrain from using the Cruciatus Curse on my mother, will you?" Sirius says. "Or at least, do it while I'm not in the room." 

"Very fond of your mother, are you," Tom says dryly. 

I walk up and ring the doorbell. The house-elf, Kreacher, comes and answers it, takes one look at Sirius, and scowls. "Nasty boy, makes mistress sad, what are you doing back here?" 

Sirius groans a little and says, "Run along, you miserable little toerag. Tell Mum I'm here to see her." 

Kreacher unhappily pops away, and the three of us step into the entryway. It only takes a minute before Walburga Black stalks out and starts shrieking at us. 

"You! You miserable waste of flesh and blood! How dare you come crawling back here? And you've probably brought some of your filthy friends, too. Mudbloods, half-breeds, blood traitors?" 

"I am a pureblood, Lady Black," I tell her, giving a suave bow. "My name is Lexen Gaunt." Might as well stick to that pseudonym in this timeline. "And this is my father, Thomas." 

"Well, at least he's showing better taste in friends now," Walburga says, huffing a little. "So, Sirius, did you come back to grovel and beg forgiveness?" 

"Actually, we're here looking for your aunt, Cassiopeia Black," I say. "I believe she might be somewhere in France, but I'm afraid I do not know where." 

"What are you looking for her for?" Walburga asks, narrowing her eyes. 

"Well, for one thing, she's my mother," I say. 

"I was unaware that Cassiopeia had a son," Walburga says. 

"So is she," Tom says quietly. 

"What's that?" Walburga says, peering at Tom. 

"It's a long story," I say. "Nonetheless, I would like to get in touch with her, if it's not too much trouble. I hate to intrude, and I'm sure you're very busy and all..." 

Walburga grunts, and says, "No, no, why don't you come in and have some tea." 

Her sudden welcoming attitude is suspicious, but if I really want to see Cassie, she's my best chance at the moment. "Certainly," I say. 

Walburga leads us in and sits us around a table, then goes off to mutter something to Kreacher that I don't quite catch. The house-elf then brings us out some tea and biscuits. Sirius doesn't look to be wanting to touch _anything_ anyway, just sitting back and pointedly ignoring the refreshments. Tom looks over his tea casually for a moment, and then nibbles on a biscuit. 

I, for one, am perfectly relaxed. I always did like Kreacher's cooking. I take a long drink of the delicious tea. 

"So, tell me, what is your interest in my Aunt Cassiopeia?" Walburga asks. 

"I'd just like to see her again," I reply. "I just want to talk to her for a little bit." 

"Is that it?" Walburga says. "You have no intention of harming her or any other member of my family?" 

"Of course not," I reply, then quickly add, "Well. Except for Bellatrix. But I'll only kill her if she decides to do something stupid, like try to keep the war going." 

"Fair enough," Walburga says. "Now, Cassiopeia. What is she to you?" 

"She is my wife," I say compulsively, then snort. "Veratiserum, is it? I should have expected that. You got me there. Fine, you want the truth, you'll get the truth. But be warned, don't ask any questions that you don't _really_ want the answers to. You might not like them." 

"I'll judge that for myself," Walburga says. "Your _wife_... Why did you claim she was your mother, then?" 

I casually munch on a tasty biscuit, and answer, "Because that's what I told Lucius Malfoy, and I wanted to stick to the same story. Given my apparent age, I thought it would be more believable. But I'm older than I look." I cock my head over at Tom. "Thomas here is actually our _son_." I can say that truthfully, since we actually _did_ adopt him. 

"I see," Walburga says, wide-eyed. 

"Kreacher's cooking is delicious," I comment. 

Sirius snorts softly. "You're barmy." 

"Why did I never hear about my aunt having a husband or son?" Walburga asks. 

"Because no one who could tell you knew about it," I say. 

I hate Veratiserum, but it doesn't bother me quite as much as it once did. Most people don't think to word questions to get the answers that they're really looking for. With practice and caution, it's perfectly possible to give answers that, while still truthful, can make someone believe whatever you want them to believe. 

"Why would she keep something like that a secret?" Walburga says. "We would have been happy for her to marry a pureblood and make more wizard children. Unless, of course, you're no pureblood, or a blood traitor, or something." She narrows her eyes at me. 

"It's a long story," I say, smiling sadly. "I cannot _prove_ that I'm a pureblood. I'm from far away from here, and my family was destroyed. I do not have access to any records. That complicates things, to be sure. But my family is old, and has prided itself on purity just as much as yours. Frequently marrying second cousins and the like." 

"Very well," Walburga says, grudgingly accepting that answer. "But are _you_ a blood traitor?" 

"I would as soon kill myself as be a betrayer or oathbreaker," I reply. 

"What do you think of Mudbloods?" Walburga says. 

This interrogation is starting to become exhausting. "What about them? I think if purebloods are going to complain about their existence, they should stop sending their Squibs out into the Muggle world, and stop having fun with Muggle women with Imperio and Obliviate. Those sorts of practices _are_ going to lead to our world's discovery by Muggles, and it _will_ be bad. We need to either sever ourselves from the Muggles completely, or learn to live with them, but these half-measures are not going to work for much longer. Things _will_ fall apart, and it's not a matter of _if_ , but _when_." 

Walburga stares at me, gaping for a long moment, then snaps her mouth shut again. 

"I warned you about asking questions you don't want to hear the answers to," I say with a smirk. "Now, will you help me find Cassie, or would you like to hear precisely what sort of danger the Muggles pose to wizardkind?" 

Walburga pauses thoughtfully for a moment, and then says, "Tell me." 

I give a short nod. "Muggles aren't just some cute primitives that pose no real threat, like harmless animals, bumbling about their lives without seeing anything. They see. They make machines the likes of which wizards cannot conceive of. The Statue of Secrecy will be shattered beyond any hope of repair. They build devices that can look even where there isn't anyone present, and those devices will only become more and more ubiquitous. Soon you will not be able to go anywhere in the Muggle world without being watched." 

I think I spent far too much time listening to Professor Quirrell teaching Muggle Studies when Tom was Headmaster of Hogwarts. 

"And they have other devices that allow them to communicate with large numbers of people simultaneously," I go on. "Imagine, if you will. What they call a _television camera_ , in a live broadcast, what will happen if magic gets caught and broadcast to millions of Muggles? You can't Obliviate them all. The best you can do is claim that this was just, _movie special effects_. But not all of them will believe that. And with every incident, the secret will break more and more." 

The table has gone dead silent but for the sound of my voice. All eyes are upon me. And I keep talking. 

"And then there will be a network, allowing not just big companies, but every individual to keep in touch with many, many people at once," I say. "And the devices that record images will become smaller and more versatile, and soon many people will have them. Now imagine, magic happening by accident in front of a small crowd. A job for the Obliviators, right? But over half of the crowd has little cameras, and they put the pictures of magic being used on this network, and millions of Muggles see it. And because it's not from a single source, and not from a big company, they can't claim that it's just 'special effects' this time." 

"Are you a seer?" Walburga whispers. 

"No," I reply. "I am a Time Mage. And I _know_ what will happen. Wizards think themselves better than Muggles. That's fine. But it's arrogance to think that that means the Muggles are harmless, and to forget that there are many, many more Muggles than wizards. We'd be snakes fighting against a swarm of rats. We might devour a few of them, but ultimately, we would be torn apart. And they have weapons. They don't just fight with bows and arrows anymore. They have guns that shoot a chunk of metal at high speeds, that most shields won't stop. And that's the least of what they can do." 

"What can we do?" Walburga wonders. 

"We have to stick together," I say. "Wizards and witches, regardless of their blood status. We have to hold fast against the coming storm. All the better if we can draw the Mudbloods into our world where they should be, so that they are less at risk of exposing us to the Muggles. Shutting them out is only going to make it more likely that we will be exposed before we are ready for it, if we can ever be ready." 

"You would have us make nice with Mudbloods?" Walburga says, looking at me in shock. 

"And disowning your family members... Andromeda, for marrying a Mudblood? Fine, that's your choice, that one was the most reasonable of them. But Sirius? You disowned your own _heir_ because you didn't like who his _school friends_ were?" 

"He was sorted into Gryffindor! He ran off and decided to be a blood traitor!" 

"She disowned Uncle Alphard just for leaving money to me," Sirius adds helpfully. 

I snort in disgust. "Did you ever consider that Sirius behaved as he did because of _your_ actions? You pushed him away, your own son and heir. And yet, the worst thing that could have happened, in your eyes, was that he decided to marry a Muggle woman, or something. The Black line would have continued impure... but it would have continued. Instead, you've very nearly destroyed your line." 

"How dare you try to claim that this was _my_ fault?" Walburga shrieks. 

"Not entirely," I say. "Every actor in this play made their own choices. You could have prevented this, however. It's not uncommon for children to go through a rebellious phase. Imagine, if you will, had you been more indulgent toward Sirius, instead of pushing him further and further away. He would have, very likely, grown out of his rebellious streak, and gone on to marry a pureblood girl, and produce many lovely pureblood children for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black." 

From the look on Sirius's face, this hypothetical is doubtful, but that's not the point of the exercise. He stays quiet. Tom, on the other hand, looks to be enjoying this just as much as he does watching me torture people. 

"You can still repair the damage that you've done to your family," I say. "It's not too late. There can be new Black heirs running around this house again. There could be grandchildren that would make you proud." I give a faint smile. "We have to be sticking together, though. We can't be pushing one another away, or the rats will devour the snakes." 

Walburga stares at me for a long moment, and then shoves me a small vial. "Veratiserum antidote. I've heard quite enough." 

I smirk at her, and drink it down. " _Je suis un ananas_ ," I murmur, and then nod, determining that it was indeed what she said it was, as I am most definitely not a pineapple. 

"Sirius," Walburga grates, looking at him as though the words are being drawn out of her with red-hot tongs. "You are... welcome in this house again. I would... _prefer_ that you find a pureblood girl to bring home." 

"And Uncle Alphard?" Sirius says. 

"Him too, of course," Walburga says. 

"And Andromeda?" Sirius adds, the corners of his lips twitching. 

"Don't push your luck." 

Walburga has Kreacher bring us fresh tea and biscuits, and goes off to find a portkey to a place called Chateau Noir that's laying around somewhere. 

"Where in the multiverse did you learn to talk like that, anyway?" Sirius wonders once she's out of earshot. 

"I took Politics as an elective at Hogwarts," I say, waving my fingers to put up a privacy spell just in case. "It was taught by Lucius Malfoy. I got an O on my OWL for it." 

"It's positively delightful to watch you yell at people," Tom says. "Especially when you can turn the tables in your favor when they think they have an advantage." 

"Lucius Malfoy taught at Hogwarts?" Sirius says. "Merlin, I'm glad I wasn't there for that. Still, how did you know what to say?" 

"It's all a matter of figuring out what they want, and then telling them what they want to hear," I say. "Our dear Professor Malfoy taught us that politics is a battlefield where every word is a weapon, and victory lies in making your enemy agree with your point of view." 

"Is that what you've been doing with me, and James, and Lily, and Dumbledore?" Sirius asks. "Manipulating us with words?" 

I snort softly. "No. You aren't my enemies. I don't normally sit around with 'politics mode' in my mindset, anymore than I go around in 'battle mode' all the time. I'd drive myself mad if I did." 

"It's just like watching him fight," Tom says. "But with different weapons. You could practically _see_ the bleeding cuts with every swipe of a well-placed phrase. Such delicious, bloodthirsty grace." 

"Flatterer," I say, blushing a little. 

Tom grins broadly at me, and leans over to brush his lips up against mine. "Shall I drink Veratiserum and tell you the same?" 

Sirius clears his throat, and Tom pulls away. "Do you really want my mum to see that?" Sirius says. 

"Ah-hem," Tom says. "Sorry, got caught up in the moment." His lips twitch in amusement, clearly not sorry at all. 

Not a moment too soon, as Walburga comes back into the room. I cancel the privacy spell. Walburga comes over and sets a black brick down upon the table in front of us. 

"There's the portkey," Walburga says. "The activation phrase is the Black family motto. Do return it when you're done with it." 

"You have my thanks, Lady Black," I say, inclining my head toward her. 

"And don't let the Ministry see it, as I believe it's technically illegal," Walburga says, with a soft snort. 

* * *

The creatively named Chateau Noir is just as black as I had expected. One might almost expect to see its spiring towers silhouette by ominous flashes of lightning in the midst of a rainstorm. 

"So. Chateau Noir is a black castle," I say. "How shocking." 

"Astute observation," Tom says wryly. 

The interior, once we're let inside, is no less ominous. Guttering torches flicker along the corridors, and we come to a large library lit by old oil lamps. And there, I see her. The old woman with a severe bun, tucked away behind a bookshelf, hunched over a desk, poring over an ancient tome of lore. 

"Ah, sorry for interrupting," I stammer, suddenly unsure what to say to her. 

Cassie looks up from her book toward us with a critical expression. "What is it?" 

"It's me, Sirius, your great-nephew," Sirius says. "I'd like you to meet some friends of mine. Lexen and Tom." 

"I see," Cassie says, setting aside her book with clear reluctance. "It's nice to meet you." From her tone, she doesn't seem to mean it. "What brings you to Chateau Noir?" 

How do I say this? I can't just say that I was married to her in another timeline, and spent the last eighty years with her, raising children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren... How can I reconcile this woman who doesn't remember me, who didn't go through any of the things we went through together, with the woman I loved, the woman I will always love? 

"I, ah..." I say hesitantly. 

Maybe I should have come with Gellert after all. At least he'd be able to break the ice. With a Shattering Curse, but at least he'd break it. 

Sirius snorts. "How can someone who just talked down the likes of my mum not know what to say here?" 

"You're not helping, Sirius," I say, rolling my eyes. 

"Is there a problem?" Cassie asks. 

"There's just no easy way to say this, I suppose," I say. "Do you mind if we take a seat? This may be a long story." 

"Summaries, Lexen, summaries!" Sirius says. 

I smirk. 

Cassie says, "Go ahead, sit down. You might as well make yourselves at home, I suppose." 

The three of us grab some chairs and sit nearby. Maybe I should have brought her a present. I could have brought some books from the Chamber of Secrets for her. She would have liked that. Cassie always did like books. She was always a Ravenclaw at heart, even if she'd wound up in Slytherin the first time around. 

"Er. What was it that were you reading, just now?" I ask. 

" _A Treatise on Magical Affinity: Light, Dark, or Neither?_ " Cassie replies. 

"Oh, I read that," I say. "It was quite an interesting read. Although I disagree with the assertion that potions can be inherently light or dark..." 

"Like you know anything about potions," Tom says in amusement. 

"It just doesn't make sense!" I say. "Ah, never mind." 

"I'm sure you didn't come all the way from England to consult me about my reading material," Cassie says. 

"Well, no, not exactly," I say, sighing. 

"Maybe we should slip him some more Veratiserum," Sirius jokes. 

I cast him a glare, then turn my attention back to Cassie. "Alright, I suppose there's no good way to say this. You see, I'm a time traveler. And I knew you in another timeline. Actually, all three of us traveled through time, although Sirius saw a different timeline than Tom, and it was the timeline with Tom and I that you were in. Well, multiple timelines, actually, we actually traveled together for a while." 

"Lexen, you're babbling," Tom says. "What happened to that spontaneous eloquent monologue?" 

Cassie is looking at me with wide eyes. "Time travel? Other timelines? And... you knew me?" 

"Yeah..." I say. "We-- We were married. Had children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren... We even went to Hogwarts together. We were both in Ravenclaw." 

"Ravenclaw?" Cassie says, a little distantly. 

I give a nod. "There's so much that you wished for... You lamented a wasted life, that only after it was too late did you wish that you'd had a chance to have children. You were in Slytherin because it was expected of you, and only later realized that was never where you belonged. You regretted not being able to save your little brother, Marius." 

Cassie averts her eyes, a haunted, sorrowful look on her face. "I'm sorry. It's just disturbing for a perfect stranger to know so much about me." 

"No, no, it's my fault for coming in here and bringing it up like this," I say. "It's just... I love you. I will always love you. I wanted to see you again, even if you didn't remember me. I can't take you with me again, and I can't stay long, but I want to give you everything that I can before I'm on my way again." 

"I... I see," Cassie says hesitantly. 

I sigh. "I say _can't_ , as if it makes it any easier. I _could_. But it was your choice. You chose... You chose..." 

Tears well up in my eyes unbidden. Tom reaches over and gently puts a hand upon my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. I wipe my eyes self-consciously. 

"What did I choose?" Cassie wonders. 

"You said... Eternity was not your heart's desire," I say, my voice cracking a little. "You could have had immortality. And yet instead, you rejected it. You must have lived almost two hundred years. And then you died. You aged, you grew old, and... you died. And I don't think I could bear to watch you die again. You were happy. You were so happy. And I could not understand why, _why_ , anyone would wish to die. I thought I must have done something wrong, something so horribly, terribly wrong that you'd become suicidal or something, I don't know. I just--" 

A hand on mine stops my babbling. Cassie is leaning over toward me, clenching my hands in hers. "Lexen. Stop." 

I go quiet, looking into her eyes. Her hair is gray, and her face is wrinkled, but her eyes are bright and curious as I always remember them. 

"I believe you," Cassie says. 

"Cassie..." I whisper. 

"Shh," Cassie says. "It's alright. I understand. Don't cry." 

"Oh, Cassie," I murmur, only crying all the more. How could I have ever thought that this isn't and would never be _my_ Cassie? There's only one Cassie. Cassie will always be Cassie. _Seek her in eternity..._

Cassie wipes away the tears from my eyes, dabbing at my face with a soft cloth. "I don't know what you've been through. But perhaps I should be the one saying that I'm sorry." 

"There's nothing that you should ever be sorry for," I say quietly. 

"It sounds like you gave me everything," Cassie says. "A life I could only have dreamed of. But how can I explain how people can accept death? I don't think you did anything wrong. From the sounds of things, you did everything right, and I died with no regrets. That's nothing to be sorry about." 

"I'm sorry that I can't give you that again," I say. "That I can't spend every moment of eternity with you. I'm sorry that I'm selfish, that I don't want to see you die ever again." 

Cassie shakes her head. "I can't say that I can blame you for that. Perhaps it was I who was selfish. I don't know." 

"I'd never call you selfish, Cassie," I whisper. "Let me give you what I can. Let me give you a chance to be happy. Alright?" 

"I guess I can't argue with that," Cassie says. "What do you want to give me?" 

"Here... Tom, can you have an essence potion ready?" I say. Tom nods. "Alright, brace yourself... this is going to be a little disorienting." 

Cassie gives a small nod, and I take her hands and call upon my magic. I think of the laughter of children. Simple innocence and happiness. The calm before the storm. I draw my magic through her, turning back the hands of time. I remember her smiling face... 

My vision blurs and I very nearly collapse, but a vial is pressed to my lips, and a fizzing potion runs down my throat. I cough a little and swallow what I can, allowing it to replenish my magical energy. I steady myself and rub my eyes, and look at my handiwork. 

Cassie sits before me, a small child with curly black hair, her robes huge and hanging loose on her diminutive frame. A little girl again, looking stunned at the transformation. 

"What-- What did you _do_?" Cassie says, practically squeaking, and not just from the sound of a little girl voice. 

"I'm a Time Mage," I say. "You don't want immortality, but I can give you this, at least. I can give you another chance to live your life the way you want to live it. A chance to be happy." 

Cassie, never one to stay confused for too long, pulls out her wand and gives it a wave, transfiguring her clothing to fit her. And she smiles. She _smiles_. She wasn't smiling when I got here. The sight of her smiling again very nearly brings the tears back to my eyes. I have to wonder when the last time was that this Cassie smiled. 

"I suppose I should thank you," Cassie says. "I'm just imagining what I could _do_ with another chance at life. Oh, you made me so _young_. I could go to Hogwarts again. Do I need to worry about the Trace?" 

I shake my head. "It doesn't care about physical age, otherwise Aging Potions would be able to fool it." 

"True," Cassie says. "But, oh, I guess I can't just say who I really am and what happened, can I. That would just result in awkward questions I don't want to answer. No, I'll have to claim to be someone's daughter." She looks to Sirius, and then shakes her head. "No, I don't think Sirius would work. I look like I'm seven or eight or so. He would've had to have been fourteen or fifteen when I was born." 

"Yeah, someone definitely would have known about _that_ ," Sirius replies, returning his attention to the conversation. It looks like he'd been looking off at the books in some embarrassed attempt to give us a little privacy. 

"Maybe Alphard?" Cassie says thoughtfully. "Or maybe I could be Marius's granddaughter... They don't know what happened to him after he went off into the Muggle world when he came of age. Nobody would be able to contradict that..." 

I hold up my hand. "Hate to nix that thought, but I _know_ you're not nearly well-versed in the Muggle world to pass as a Muggleborn." 

"Right, you have a point there," Cassie says. "Alright, I'll have to see about contacting Alphard, then." 

"I can help you out with whatever you might need, though," Sirius says. " _I'm_ not planning on going anywhere." 

This is the Cassie I remember. The Cassie who takes the reins and thrusts herself into a situation without hesitation or reservation. Her joy and energy is infectious, and I can't help but smile at her. 

She leans close and gives me a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you. I won't squander this gift. And I wish you well, wherever or whenever you might go." 

Here I am, finding myself saying goodbye again. But maybe it isn't so bad. It's not like I can never see her again, after all. And she's happy. Merlin, she's _happy_. 

Goodbyes are like clouds rolling by in the blue, blue sky. The only thing constant in the universe is change. Time passes, the seasons turn, and life goes on. 


End file.
